Faggotitus
by squeaken1
Summary: After having numerous homosexual dreams involving Butters, Cartman diagnoses himself with Faggotitus. Meanwhile, Kyle tries to help Stan with his drinking problem.
1. The Diagnosis

**Chapter 1**

**The Diagnosis**

Eric Cartman sat at the edge of his bed, gazing at the blond boy that sat in front of him. A twisted smirk made its way across his chunky face, pushing a sensation of worry into the blond's heart. There was just something that didn't feel right about this situation. There was just something in that smile that made him shiver. He realized that something very unnatural was about to occur in the very room in which he stood, but what?

"Butters, get your fucking ass over here!" Eric ordered, swinging his pointed finger to the ground.

"Uh, y-yes, Eric," Butters stuttered, awkwardly approaching his big lard of a friend. Their eyes met in a moment of utter silence; shimmering blue eyes reflecting into deep brown ones. The moment was lost when the gleaming blue eyes blinked, shifting into another direction.

"Turn around, Butters!" Eric barked, swirling his fat pointer finger in the air. "And take off your shirt!"

Without hesitation, Butters did as demanded of him, no questions asked. He really wished he knew what Eric had schemed up this time. It would only be a matter of time before he found out, he supposed.

"Good," Eric said in a hushed tone, wrapping his thick arms around the scrawny boy. "You're all mine now, and there's nothing you can do about it…" He voice became softer, sending chills down Butters' spine. Eric knew exactly what he had in store for Butters, and knew God damn well the boy would play along without hesitation, as he always had. He was like putty in Eric's hands.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Butters unknowingly awaited what was about to happen next. At that very moment, warm, wet lips of Eric Cartman touched his neck, lathering his soft skin with his saliva. It was not what Butters expected, but he still unsure of what to think of it.

Eric continued to glaze his tender lips across his friend's neck, enjoying every moment of it. His body shivered in sheer delight. As if it had a mind of its own, one of his beefy hands slipped their way down Butters' pants, causing the blond to make a slight squeak as the fat fingers stroked his genitalia.

"E-eric," Butters moaned, paralyzed in place.

"Shut up, Butters," Eric whispered, continuing to rub against the other boy's penis with pleasure. His free hand began the removal of Butters' pants and boxers.

"E-eric," Butters repeated, slightly louder as his face flushed a beat red.

"I said shut up." Eric's voice seemed a tad irritated now, but he still softly stroked the blond's genitalia.

"Eric!" the voice of his teacher exploded out of Butters mouth, causing the room to turn black.

* * *

><p>"Eric Cartman!" Mr. Garrison shouted one last time, blowing an air horn shortly afterwards.<p>

"Agh!" Eric screeched, covering his ears along with the rest of the class. "What the fuck was that for?"

"For falling asleep in class _again_, Eric! Now keep your sorry ass awake or go to the principal's office!" Mr. Garrison lectured, holding his hands at his hips.

"Tch, whatevah," Eric muttered hoarsely under his breath.

"Now, back to my lecture on the retards that want to censor the internet," Mr. Garrison continued, looking back at his board.

Eric was too busy thinking about his dream to really give a fuck. It was just too bizarre. For the past few weeks, he's been having all these strange dreams, which usually involve sexual relations between himself and Butters. It didn't make any sense to him whatsoever. First of all, why would he ever dream of being with Butters? He was a stupid pussy! Second of all, he wasn't gay, so why would he even have these sort of dreams? There had to be a reason! Maybe he was sick or something? Eric had no clue, but he was determined to find out.

"Mr. Garrison!" Eric shouted, interrupting class, yet again. "Can I go to the nurse's office? I don't feel too good…." He tried his best to keep his voice innocent and gentle, hoping to get his way.

"No, you seem fine to me, Eric," Mr. Garrison commented, studying the boy from head to toe.

"God damn it! I don't feel good!" Eric shouted, slamming his fists against his desk.

"You're just trying to get out of class again, fat ass!" Kyle commented, sneering at the tubby child.

"For the last time, I'm not fat! I'm big boned!" Cartman shot at the Jewish boy, Kyle.

"Yeah, suuuuuuuuuure you are," Stan added, slurring his words.

"Stop defending your stupid, Jew-ass boyfriend, you fucking drunk-tard!" Cartman was fuming with anger, about ready to burst.

"Eh, fuck yooooou, Cartmaaan, you fucking piece of shit!" With that said, Stan puked all over his notes. "Stop doooing that, you piece of shit!" Stan yelled at himself.

"Oh God," Kyle mumbled to himself, pinching his brow.

Kenny began to add to the conversation, but no one really understood what he was saying, due to the fact it was muffled through his hood.

"Can I teach a class without all this drama?" Mr. Garrison bickered, seating himself at his desk.

"So, Mr. Garrison-"Eric started, before getting interrupted by his teacher.

"Just go see the nurse! I don't give a fuck right now!" Mr. Garrison rolled his eyes.

"Thanks, Mr. Garrison!" Eric said with false glee. He then dashed out the door, trying to move as swiftly as possible.

"Why'd they have to promote me to teaching fifth grade?" Mr. Garrison spat to himself before continuing his lesson.

* * *

><p>"Well, you seem perfectly healthy to me," Nurse Gollum said, smiling at the overweight boy.<p>

"No, there has to be something wrong with me!" Eric whined.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well…" Eric hesitated, trying to find the right words for his story. "Let's just say that I'm having these fucked up dreams that make no sense."

"Sounds like something that Mr. Mackey can help you with," Nurse Gollum explained, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, whatevah! Don't help me with my illness, then!" Eric barked, stomping out of the room.

"That boy has serious problems," Nurse Gollum sighed.

* * *

><p>"So, um, Eric, why have you come here today? Don't be shy, m'kay?" Mr. Mackey began, folding his hands on his desk.<p>

"I have a God damn illness, and Nurse Gollum doesn't believe me!" Eric bickered with rage, clenching his fists tightly.

"Well, what kind of illness do you have?" Mr. Mackey continued, creating his own theory as to what is going on.

With a heavy sigh, the chunky boy shut his eyes, attempting to calm himself. He took another deep breath, opened his eyes, and decided he could now speak. "Well, after much thought, I believe that I have caught a serious disease called faggotitus," Eric explained with much forced intelligence in his voice.

"Eric, you do realize that faggotitus isn't a real disease, right?"

"Tch, what do you know?" Eric spat, a bit insulted. He knew what he was talking about! Faggotitus had to be a disease; it explained everything, and that didn't just include himself! "Faggotitus is a real disease, Mr. Mackey! It has infected my tiny brain, just as it did to Stephen Stotch."

"You mean to say that Butters' father has faggotitus?" Mr. Mackey questioned, eyeing Eric carefully.

"Well, he was infected by the disease. But now he's cured. I'm sure if you ask the Stotch's, they can tell you about his…" Eric paused for a moment, shifting his eyes back and forth, then bringing his voice to a whisper, "…bi-curiosity".

"Eric, are you trying to say that you're having homosexual dreams?"

"Well, duh! A straight man having gay dreams is a sign of faggotitus!"

"Well, listen to what I think is going on, m'kay? I think that your body is trying to express your feelings for someone through your dreams, m'kay? And since you didn't expect it to be a guy, m'kay, you're blaming it on a fake disease. You see what I'm saying, Eric?" Mr. Mackey brought his folded hands up, resting his chin upon them. He was sure his theory was right, as Eric Cartman never seemed like the type to accept certain factors of himself, such as being gay.

"I think you and Nurse Gollum are both assholes that don't want to find a cure to my faggotitus!" Eric yelled, jumping out of his seat. "Fuck you assholes! I'm gonna find my own cure!" With that said, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

An eerie silence filled the air, as Mr. Mackey stared at the empty room in front of him."I think I better call Mrs. Cartman," Mr. Mackey concluded.

* * *

><p><strong>This is the first time I've ever written a story like this before, guys! Please tell me how I did and tell me how I can improve! It's very difficult to write about something you've never experienced, and probably never will (I am a girl, after all!) so please give me your input! Thanks!<strong>


	2. Rid Me of This Disease

**Chapter 2**

**Rid Me of This Disease**

"This is ridiculous, Stan!" Kyle bickered, crossing his arms as he rolled his green eyes. He knew his best friend was messed up, but he didn't realize it was to this extent. Stan had drank five cans of beer already, and he was still begging for more. Hadn't he had enough? It seemed as though enough was nonexistent to his dear friend. If only he could just get him to stop drinking entirely.

"Naw, is all gooood, Keeyahl!" Stan slurred, putting an arm around his friend.

"My name's not Keeyahl," Kyle stated dryly. "You shouldn't drink this much! In fact, you shouldn't drink at all! You're only eleven years old!" Steam blew out of the Jew's ears as he lectured his drunken friend, who let a wide smile creep along his cheeks.

"I wuvs yew Keeeyahl; alweies and forahvers!" Stan attempted to hut his red-headed bud, who quickly pushed him away.

"This has got to stop, Stan! I'm banning any sort of alcohol from your possession!" Kyle clenched his teeth, sneering at the alcoholic boy that faced him.

"Dooon't dooo tat!"

"It's for your own good!"

"But-" Stan's own body interrupted him, causing him to cover his mouth as quickly as possible, which wasn't all that fast at the moment. Within a split second, what would not rest in his stomach spewed out of his mouth, spilling out of the cracks of his hands. Unfortunately for Kyle, he became a victim.

"Shit, thanks, Stan! Now I smell like your puke!"

"Saaawww goooood, Keeyahl!" Stan lifted his thumb, in a poor attempt at a thumbs up, just as Kyle rolled his eyes.

* * *

><p>Eric kicked his legs back and forth as he sat on the cold chair of the doctor's office. He hated the long waits for the doctors. It seemed like there were no other patients, but when he was sent to a room, there was no doctor in sight. "The doctor will be with you in just a moment," were the last words he heard, but there was still no doctor. Those lying bastards. While he was bored stiff, the doctors were probably having a grand old time in a Jacuzzi with the nurses or something. Either way, it pissed him off.<p>

"What brings you here this time, Eric?" Dr. Doctor questioned as he entered the room. A neat little clipboard full of the tubby boy's information was held tightly within his grasp.

"It has come to my attention that the _douche bags_ at my school have no concern for my horrible disease!" Eric hollered, clenching his fists.

"What disease?" He began flipping through his clipboard, afraid that he had forgotten an ailment he had diagnosed Eric with.

"Faggotitus!" Eris whispered harshly.

"…That's not a disease, Eric. I'm sorry," Dr. Doctor muttered, unsure of what else to say.

"It is a disease! Why won't anyone believe me?" Eric squealed, shaking his fists in frustration.

"Are you sure you're just not a gay homophobic?" Dr. Doctor questioned, keeping a neutral expression.

"…..What?" Eric didn't know what to say. Everyone was concluding that he was homosexual, when he clearly was a masculine straight man! What about him seemed faggy? It was such a horrible assumption that it infuriated him more with every second he thought about it! "I'll have you know, doctor, that I'm _not _a queer faggot! I am _not _gay! So stop assuming that, you fucking dick!"

Dr. Doctor didn't know what to say. He could try to reason with Eric and explain to him that there is no such illness, but deep inside he knew that would not be possible. The fat boy was very difficult to reason with, and he simply didn't want to. He turned to his patient and eyed him carefully, trying to think of the best solution to his unusual situation. Pacing back and forth, the doctor tried to get his brain to fuse an idea.

"Well?" Eric questioned, his irritation reaching its peak. His cold, brown eyes shot at the pacing man, unwilling to give up his argument. There was no way he was a damn homo, no fucking way. He knew he was attracted to boobs and vaginas, and there was nothing anyone could say or do to change that! Naked girls were hot, right?

"Just diagnose yourself with faggotitus, Eric! I don't care! But just remember, you didn't hear this from me!" Dr. Doctor blurted, dropping his arms low to the ground. He really didn't want to admit defeat, but it was better than dealing with Eric Cartman.

"Thank you, doctor!" Eric chirped in a sing-song voice, skipping out of the cold medical room.

* * *

><p>Walking the sidewalks, Eric casually made his way back home, anticipating a mouth-watering meal. Perhaps a bucket of KFC chicken would suffice, or maybe even a great, big turkey? The thought of it all just made his stomach rumble. It didn't matter what kind of food it was, as long as it was <em>good<em> food.

Eric turned the corner, leaping over a small patch of ice. He was just a couple streets away from home, and couldn't wait to get there! But that's when his mind began to wander. The face of Butters floated in his head, full of cheer and glee. A small smile crept its way on Eric's lips, his mind unconscious of his actions. That sweet, adorable face of Butters just shined at him, greeting him with his soothing voice. He let out a sigh when suddenly, it hit him

_WHAM!_

With full force, his pudgy face slammed straight into the pole of a stop sign, his belly absorbing the hit as well. A piercing clang echoed in his ears, the snow-filled town shaking before his eyes. Eric immediately gripped his forehead, digging his fingers into his hat. His head would not stop pounding, so he tightly shut his eyes, hoping to God that no one had been a witness.

"Eric, are you okay?" a familiar voice rang through his ears, filled with worry and concern. Unsure if it was either all in his mind or real, Eric opened his eyes, coming face to face with his witness.

"E-eric?" Butters cooed, cocking his head in question It was never like Eric to just walk into stop signs, then again, he did say he wasn't feeling too well earlier.

"Butters," Eric croaked, tugging at the collar of his jacket, "what did you see?"

"Well, I saw you walk straight into the stop sign, Eric." The blond was unsure of where his friend was going with this, but he really was concerned for him. Poor Eric, feeling unwell while having all others doubting his claim. He wished there was be something he could do. With all of this running through his head, Butters began to knock his knuckles together.

"Well, don't tell anybody about what you saw, or I'll kick your ass!" Eric warned, sending a cold stare the other boy's way.

"Oh, o-okay, Eric." Butters darted his eyes downward, unsure of what else to say.

The two boys sat there in the cold in utter silence, watching the people pass by. That's when Eric's mind began to wander again, only this time, thoughts of his dreams came to haunt him.

A naked Butters sat on top of him, pressing his lips against Eric's. The two boys allowed their tongues to slip into the other's mouths, fighting each other for dominance. The tongues twisted and twirled, giving great pleasure to Eric. The fat boy allowed his hands to creep down to the other's ass, gently rubbing one of his hands upon it. The other decided to change direction by sinking downward, heading for the penis.

"Boy, Eric, you don't look so good," Butters blurted, ejecting Eric out of his thought bubble.

"Wh-what?" stuttered Eric, his face tinting a rosy pink.

"Y-you have a black eye from hitting that stop sign, Eric!" the blond began to explain, fiddling with his thumbs. "And your face is turning red….not to mention your wiener is growing."

Afraid the smaller boy was right, Eric darted his eyes downward, gasping at the sight of his erecting penis. His face became a tomato, panic and worry filling his head. He had to get out of there, fast! He didn't want Butters to think he was some kind of faggot or anything! He was just a victim on a horrible, horrible disease! Why couldn't it go away? Without any other thoughts, Eric turned with a jolt, dashing down the streets of South Park.

"Wh-what'd I say?" Butters questioned aloud, scratching the back of his head. Eric sure was acting strange, but why? Was he seriously ill, but too embarrassed to talk about it?

* * *

><p>With great force, Eric slammed his door shut, panting heavily. He had just ran more than he ever though his large body could handle, but at least he had gotten away. Figuring everything would be fine, Eric allowed himself to calm down, his pants slowing down.<p>

"Poopsikins, is that you?" the soft voice of Liane Cartman sang throughout the house.

Where was she? Eric's eyes swatted back and forth, in search for his mother. He just couldn't let her see him with this great boner, not now! Footsteps echoed against the walls, drawing nearer with each step. She was closing in on him! Without another thought, Eric dived onto the couch, throwing a blanket over his lap. His grubby hands snatched the remote and powered up the television.

"Eric?" Liane questioned, entering the room. A small smile crossed her cheeks as she watched her son in his usual spot on the couch.

"What is it, Mom?" Eric hollered, turning his focus to his mother.

"Would you like me to get anything for you?" She really wanted to have a serious talk with her son, but she wasn't sure how he'd take it.

"Can I have some cheesy poofs, Mom?" Eric asked sweetly, batting his eyes.

"Sure, hun," Liane answered, walking straight for the kitchen.

Finally, Eric was alone. He just couldn't stop thinking about his dream. Why did they have to be so damn sexy? It infuriated Eric to no end! The lamest guy in school was giving him a boner, because his infected head kept creating unreal images! He needed a cure, but he wasn't sure where to start!

Sinking into the couch, Eric let his eyes scatter around the room. He needed to calm himself down. Normally he would've turned his attention to the television, which was currently playing _Terrence and Phillip_ reruns, but he couldn't get his brain to focus on that right now. There had to be something in the room that would turn him off.

Becoming bored of his search for un-sexy items, Eric drifted off into a daydream. A naked Butters sat in front of him.

_DING DONG_

Eric shook his head, glancing down at his groin. God damn it, not again!

"Mom! Somebody's at the door!" Eric squealed, pulling his blanket over his shoulders.

"Coming, hun," Liane answered, entering the room with a huge bowl of cheesy poofs. She placed the bowl onto her son's lap, giving him a warm smile. Making a short journey across her green carpet, Liane kept her focus to the door. Without hesitation, she finally opened it, not too surprised at the gusts.

"Is fatass there?" Kyle questioned, dragging Stan in.

"Eric, it's your little friends!" Liane chirped, stepping aside to allow Kenny inside as well.

"Oh, that's just great," Eric moaned. "What the hell do you guys want?"

"I'll be upstairs if you need me," Liane quickly stated, making her way up the wooden staircase.

"We're helping Stan with his drinking problem!" Kyle shot, glaring at the fat boy. "You're gonna help whether you like it or not!"

"I don't really give a fuck, Kahl. It's his damn fault!" Eric hid his body underneath the safety of his blanket, debating if he should grab a cheesy poof or not.

"Muh mmph mm mmmph, mmuhmm!" Kenny muffled through his parka hood.

"I am not, Kinny!" Eric shouted, still hiding himself under his precious blanket.

"No, Kenny's right! You shouldn't act like a dick to your _friends_!" Kyle snarled, clenching his teeth.

Meanwhile, Stan plotted himself in the middle of the rug next to Eric's cat, Mr. Kitty. They both stared at each other for a moment, until Stan pulled the feline into a tight hug.

"I have a serious disease, Kahl! I don't have time to help!" Eric sneered at Kyle, taking no notice to Stan.

"You don't have a disease; now get out from under that blanket!"

"It's just a bit chilleh in 'ere…"

"No it's not! And even if it was, you have enough fat to keep you warm in the winters of Antarctica!"

"Hey! I'm not fat, Jew-tard!"

Kyle sent a grimacing glare to Eric, folding his arms across his chest.

Kenny walked over to Eric and took two handfuls of cheesy poofs, as if he had never seen food before.

"Kinny! That's mah cheesy poofs!" Eric whined, receiving a dirty look from Kenny.

"You weren't eating them," Kyle explained, unaware that Stan was placing Mr. Kitty onto his head.

"Yes, I was…See?" Eric flopped his face straight into the bowl, chowing down on every cheesy poof his teeth and tongue could find. When satisfied, Eric let out a loud belch, settling his head back against the couch once more.

"What the fuck?" Kyle muttered, arching an eyebrow. "Take off the blanket!"

"No! I told you, I'm cold!"

Kenny swiped the blanket clear off Eric's lap, revealing his erection.

"What theeeeeeeee fuuuuuuck, dooooooode?" Stan let out, leaning against Kyle's shoulder.

"Would you cut it out, Stan?" Kyle snapped as he waved his friend away, still unaware of the cat upon his head.

Kenny let out a series of uncontrollable laughter, while Stan and Kyle tried to figure out how to react.

"Shut up! It's a side effect of my faggotitus disease! Now get the fuck out!" Eric screamed, literally kicking them out of his home.

* * *

><p><strong>There are certain parts I am satisfied with, and others not so much. I'm sure you can guess which parts I dislike (my weak partsparts that don't make a whole lot of sense). Yep. The next chapter will be my favorite, since I have a scene in mind I've been wanting to write. Enjoy!**


	3. Thank You for Choosing Airport Hilton

…

**Chapter 3**

**Thank You for Choosing Airport Hilton**

"Thanks for letting us sleep over, Mrs. Marsh," Kyle said as he spread out his sleeping bag across the blue carpet of Stan's room.

"Not a problem, Kyle," Sharron replied, grabbing the handle to the door. "If there's anything you boys need, just let me know."

Kyle just nodded, whipping his hands across his sleeping bag to flatten it. As soon as she left, he faced his three friends, determination in his face. "Okay, guys. The plan is to keep Stan sober as long as we can. If we catch him trying to sneak some on us, then we'll zap him with the dog collar.

"I don't like this at all," a sober Stan dryly stated, crossing his arm.

"It's for your own good, Stan," Kyle shot back, glancing at the other two boys present. "Any other comments or questions?"

"You're a stupid Jew, Kahl," Eric snorted, seating himself upon his sleeping bag.

"Shut up, stupid," Kyle muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Mmph mm mmm mmph mm mmuphmm mmph mmm mph mmmphmm?" Kenny questioned through his hooded parka.

"Well.." Kyle started, glancing around the room. "I guess one of us is going to have to stand watch and we'll switch every hour."

"This is going to suck," Stan groaned, putting his face into his palms.

"Mmmph mm mm, mmm," Kenny said, patting Stan on the shoulder.

"You fags can do what you want, I'm going to sleep," Eric bluntly stated, tucking himself within his sleeping bag.

"You're the fag, Cartman!" Kyle grumbled.

"Yeah, you got a boner from your 'faggotitus' disease," Stan added.

"Mmph mm mm mmph mumphmm?" Kenny questioned, sending Eric an intrigued gaze as he batted his eyes.

Eric flushed. "None of your God damn business!" Turning away from the other boys, Eric pulled the sleeping bag closer to his chest, as if it could protect him from the night's evils.

Kyle laughed, leaning against the sight of Stan's bed. "I bet it's someone we'd never guess!"

"Mmph?" Kenny pointed a finger towards Kyle, laughing hysterically afterwards.

"Ew! That's gross, Kenny!" Kyle threw his pillow at his friend, disgusted at the mere thought of his suggestion.

Is it someone in this room?" Stan joined in, glancing at all three sleeping bags aligned along the side of his bed. Pulling the pillow from the head of the bed, Stan tucked it between his elbows and knees.

"No!" Eric flatly stated, trying as hard as he could to erase the pink from his face.

"Hmm. Is it Craig?" Kyle questioned, tilting his head.

"No," Eric responded harshly, wrapping his pillow around his ears.

"Clyde?" Stan asked, his eyes aimlessly glancing at the _Terrance and Phillip _posters slapped on his purple walls.

"No!" Eric squeezed his eyes tight, hoping to God they would stop.

"Mmm?" Kenny asked as he laid himself across his sleeping bag.

"Why the fuck would it be him?" Eric snarled, turning his head to Kenny.

Kenny shrugged, trying to think of someone else.

"I got it!" Kyle shouted with excitement. "It's Butters!"

Silence filled the room for a second or two until Eric finally said something. "You're wrong, Jew…"

"No, I'm right! You hesitated to answer, fatass!" Kyle argued, placing his hands at his hips.

"Tch, whatevah! I'm going to sleep!" Eric exclaimed, turning his head once more away from his friends.

* * *

><p>Tossing and turning, he tried to get some decent sleep. He knew he had a problem, but he just couldn't help it. If it were up to him, he wouldn't have these fucking desires. It was his own body's damn fault, not his! So why was it so difficult to get anyone to realize that? Finally giving up on sleep, Stan sat up in his bed, dangling his feet at the side.<p>

His eyes darted straight for his friends, who all seemed to be sleeping. _It was probably Cartman's turn to stay watch_, Stan thought, a smile curling upon his lips. Carefully, the boy jumped out of bed, creeping across the room. He just had to have a drink, even if it was just a sip. Everything around him was starting to look like a piece of shit, even his dreams. He just couldn't take it: the smells, the sights, the sounds; all shit!

Finally, Stan had reached his dresser drawer. He glanced around the room once more, ensuring his safety to retrieve his precious. Everyone was snoring like a baby, perfect. As slowly and quietly as possible, Stan opened his drawer, licking his lips anxiously. His hands rummaged through his shirts until he finally found what he was looking for: a bottle of whisky.

"I missed you _so_ much," Stan cooed, rubbing the bottle. He glanced around once more and took a large gulp of the alcohol. Wanting to take another sip, he looked around once more, to find Eric moving about. Quickly, Stan threw the bottled back into his drawer and closed it shut. His feet helped him take off into his bed, throwing the blanket over himself. Finally, everything wasn't shit.

Eric moved about, moaning in his sleep. Sweet trickled down his forehead, his eyebrows bending upward with worry. His great weight flopped back and forth, pounding against the floor as it did so.

Stan sat up once more, eyeing his friend. What the hell was he dreaming about? He wasn't sure if he honestly wanted to know, so he just shrugged it off.

"Butters, you're so sexy," Eric muttered in his sleep.

Stan shot his body right back into a sitting position. This was just fucking weird. Eric Cartman was calling Butters Stotch sexy? He knew that the boy was having homo dreams about the other, but he still never imagined he'd actually hear these words out loud! Even if it was just sleep talk, it was still out of this world.

"I'll go faster for you, Butters," Eric moaned once more, drool escaping the corner of his mouth.

"Jesus fucking Christ, dude," Stan blurted, bewildered by what he had just heard. "Now I really don't wanna know." Quickly, Stan snatched his iPod touch off of his nightstand and pushed the ear buds in as deep as he could, playing loud music to block out Eric.

* * *

><p>Seated in the front of the Sunset Room of Airport Hilton, Eric crossed his arms, waiting for someone to show up. It felt like a repetition of his AIDS benefit. Didn't anyone care about his disease? Even if they didn't know what it was, couldn't they at least show a little compassion for a fellow student who was gravely ill? His ears perked up when he heard the doors open, quickly twirling his head around to get a view of who it was.<p>

"H-hiya, Eric! I'm not late, am I?" Butters questioned, closing the door behind him.

Wonderful! The boy this disease caused him to crush on was here! How could it get any better?

Butters seated himself next to Eric, giving him a small, goofy smile. "How is everything, Eric?"

"F-fine," Eric muttered, biting his bottom lip. His throat became dry, his tongue trying to find saliva to send down his throat. His heart pounded against his chest, sending chills down his spine. What was going on? Why couldn't his disease just leave him alone?

"So, what is this faggotitus, anyway? It sounds horrible." Butters questioned, trying to start a conversation.

"It's a disease that causes you to think and dream horrible things you wouldn't normally," Eric explained vaguely, not wanting Butters to understand the whole truth behind it.

"Oh, what kind of things?"

"Things that would get you grounded," Eric truthfully answered, trying not to let his mind wander off.

"Jesus, I'm glad I don't have it, then. I would be grounded for the rest of my life." Butters darted his eyes downward, watching himself twiddle his thumbs.

"Trust me, you should be," Eric mumbled, turning away from the blond.

* * *

><p>"Well thanks a lot, guys! You've been a real big help!" Eric screamed, throwing his hands in the air.<p>

"What are you going on about now?" Kyle scowled as he helped a drunken Stan up with Kenny.

"You didn't show up to my Faggotitus Benefit, just like you did with my AIDS Benefit!" Steam blew out of Eric's ears as he continued on with his tantrum.

"I think helping Stan with his drinking problem is more important than your benefit for your fake disease!" Kyle sneered, wrapping an arm around Stan.

"I looove you guyses sooo much!" Stan slurred, a wide smile spread across his lips.

"No one gives a crap about Stan! I'm pretty sure everyone wants to hear about my disease!"

"Mmph mm mmph." Kenny shot at Eric, his voice still muffled from his parka.

"Shut up, Kinny!" Eric screamed, shaking his fists in the air.

"Who went to your God damn benefit, then?" Kyle demanded.

"Butters….But that's not the point!" Eric was fuming with anger, irritated by Kyle's ignorance.

"Sooo your booooyfriend cares," Stan slurred, leaning against Kyle's shoulder.

"Tch! He's not my boyfriend!"

"How does everyone care if no one but Butters went to your benefit?" Kyle asked, unsure if he really wanted to hear Eric's excuse or not.

"Just look at the damn comments and reviews, Kahl! No one gives a shit about you and Stan! As far as they're concerned, you guys could just go fuck yourselves!" Eric stuck his tongue at Kyle, crossing his arms.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What comments and reviews?"

"God, you're so stupid, Kahl." Eric pinched his brow, shutting his eyes.

"Whatever, jackass. Stan's _real_ friends are going to stop him from consuming liquor," Kyle snarled, dragging Stan down the sidewalks of South Park. Kenny followed behind, like a chick would a hen.

Eric scowled as they left. That Jew was lucky it was a Saturday; otherwise he would get hell at school.

* * *

><p>Sitting against the arm of the couch, Eric stared at the television, his eyes drawn by the cartoons. He didn't have much planned for the afternoon, as his benefit was a total loss. For now, he would just relax his mind, waiting until the right moment came for him to unleash plan B.<p>

"Oh, Eric!" Liane called, entering the bright-yellow room from the kitchen. Her thin body faced the couch, awaiting for the fat boy to acknowledge her existence.

"I'm watching _Terrance and Phillip_, Mom!" Eric whined, turning his head.

"I have something important to discuss with you, Eric," Liane explained, seating herself next to her son.

"Can't it wait until next commercial, Mom?" Eric bickered, shaking his fists in the air.

"I suppose so," Liane muttered, sitting through the show with her son. As soon as a commercial break began, she took the remote and muted the television.

"Mom!"

"Eric, stop it! I need to talk with you!" Liane lectured, giving her son a rare aggressive tone.

"Fine," Eric sighed. "Make it quick." Crossing his arms, the boy glared at his mother, leaning back for comfort.

"I received a phone call yesterday from your school counselor, Mr. Mackey," she began.

Eric rolled his eyes.

"He said you claimed to have a disease?"

"And why didn't you bring this up yesterday, Mom?" Eric sneered, raising an eyebrow.

"I was…_busy_…when he called…and I didn't check my messages until this morning," Liane carefully explained, holding her finger to her chin.

Keeping the same grimacing stare in his eyes, Eric watched his mother carefully, not daring to make another word. What was the point of this conversation? He didn't need any of this!

"And I also heard that you had a benefit for it this morning at the Airport Hilton?" she continued, a bit intimidated by her son's glare.

Still, Eric remained in place, his hard face set in stone.

"Can you tell me about this disease, hun? Maybe there's something I can do to help.."

"Only if you promise not to make the same assumption everyone else did," Eric grumbled, not thrilled to have this discussion with his mother.

"Alright, whatever you say, poopsikins."

Eric inhaled deeply, shutting his eyes. "It's called faggotitus. Basically, it gives me faggy dreams, and you _know_ I'm not a faggot, Mom. Right?"

"Of course not, sweetie," Liane said with a smile. "But I don't think you have a disease. Maybe you're just a little bi-curious is all. I've been down that road too, hun."

"I think my situation is different from yours," Eric grunted. "You've slept with everyone in South Park! I'm not like that! And I'm the coolest kid in school too! I _really_ don't think my reputation will strengthen from me being bi-curious –not that I am! And even if I was, my fagginess would show a sign of weakness! I don't want that, Mom!"

"Well, your teacher, Mr. Garrison, is gay, but he's not weak at all. He may be a little obscene, but he's not weak. And you wouldn't believe how he is in bed! That was quite a great experience before he-"

His jaw hanging open, Eric stared at his mom, his eyes widening. "Too much information, Mom!"

"Sorry," Liane quickly apologized, her face flushing pink.

"I'm not gay, I just have a disease! I won't rest until I find a cure!" Eric declared, pointing his finger in the air.

"I hope you do," Liane cooed, concerned for her son.

* * *

><p><strong>Yep. This was an interesting chapter to write. As with the last chapter, some parts I like, others I don't. And I love breaking the fourth wall!<strong>


	4. People of South Park

…

**Chapter 4**

**People of South Park**

Dressed in a brown suit, Eric stood at a podium, staring at the crowd which stood before him. He slicked his brunette hair back, taking a deep breath as the citizens watched him carefully.

"People of South Park!" Eric began, clearing his throat. "I am standing before you to discuss a very serious matter!"

"Where's the mayor?" a random citizen blurted.

"Get lost, kid," outburst another.

"The mayor is not here right now, because she wanted me to deliver you my important message," Eric lied, thinking back to what he had done to the mayor. Oh yes, he had really done it this time. It was all for the sake of his disease, though. She was just being an asshole, like the others, and refused to believe that Faggotitus was a disease! So, without any worries or cares, Eric tied her up and taped her mouth shut!

With great acting, he wiped a false tear away from his eye. "There are many children around you having fun and playing games. They will laugh and smile as time moves on. However, there is one child here in South Park that can't enjoy all of this. There is one child that has to suffer a critical disease that has no cure. What disease, do you ask? Well, it's not very well known, so most will just ignore it, as this child is raped by the horrors of this disease. It's a disease that causes horrible and unnatural dreams, resulting in a false bi-curiosity. This child is tormented night and day with these visions, hoping one day to find an end to it all. So, I am asking you, people of South Park, Colorado, to not only help me find a cure, but to show that you care for this poor, innocent child. Don't let him get raped night and day; let him live! Let him live on the normal life he deserves! Let him be free of his disease of Faggotitus!"

Rivers of tears falling down their cheeks, the crowd before him sobbed to no end. They all seemed to show emotion towards his speech; wanting to do everything they could to help this poor, inflicted boy.

"I'll help anyway I can," cried a woman.

"Here, take this donation!" shouted a man, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"Take my entire paycheck!" someone sobbed, throwing their wallet at Eric.

All Eric could do was curl his lips into a wide smile, accepting the hundreds of donations.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Marsh," Kyle began, holding Stan upright, "could you do me a big favor?"<p>

"Can't it wait?" Randy Marsh asked, slouching on his green sofa, his eyes glued to the television.

"No, it can't," Kyle bluntly stated.

With a heavy sigh, Randy eyed the three children. "Well, what is it?"

"Mmph mm mmm mmuphmumm mmm?" Kenny questioned, receiving a gasp from Stan's father.

"Boys, I don't know what you're up to, but that is the most absurd thing I've ever heard!" Randy crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.

"But it'll help Stan with his drinking problem," Kyle explained, a hopeful gleam in his green eyes.

Randy was taken aback. "My son's drinking? Since when?"

Kyle smacked his forehead with his free hand. Meanwhile, his other one was being cuddled by Stan, who was muttering nonsense in his slurred voice.

"Dude! You're saying that you never noticed Stan's been drunk almost every day!" Kyle shot at his friend's father, irritated by his ignorance.

"Well, I don't hang out with him every second of the day! Gawd!" Yet again, Randy rolled his eyes, snorting.

"You're his dad! I would think you would notice these things!" Kyle continued to argue.

"Mmm! Mummph mm mmumm mumphmm mm mmph?" Kenny added, angered as well.

Sighing heavily, Randy leaned closer to the boys. "Look, I'll do it. Just promise me you won't tell Mrs. Marsh about this, okay? I don't want her to think I'm some kind of idiot or something."

"We promise." Kyle was just glad he won the argument.

"Mmumm mmph mm mmph mm mmumm!" Kenny said, laughing shortly afterwards.

* * *

><p>"Tom here reporting big news!" the man on the television announced, standing in the streets of South Park. "A brave boy in South Park, Colorado named Eric Cartman is on a mission to find a cure to an undetected disease known as Faggotitus. He says that it's raped a little boy in his town with unnatural visions that cause bi-curiosity. There are many here that are sending thousands of donations to help find a cure, while there are others that seem to have an issue with it."<p>

Keeping the same smile, Tom gestured towards the man next to him. He wore a brilliant, bright pink shirt, which complemented his faded pink lips.

"Sir, what do you have to say about all this?"

"I am horrified that these people are sending in money to help this boy out! He doesn't have a disease! He's just encouraging more people to become homophobic!" the man, known as Big Gay Al, explained.

"And what do you have to say, sir?" Tom asked, pointing to a man with a black police-type hat.

"Well, Jesus Christ. This has to be stopped! Us gays have worked very hard to be as accepted as we are now! We don't need this boy to make it harder for us!"

Without being gestured to, Mr. Garrison made his way through the crowd, pushing the man aside. "I agree, Mr. Slave!" he sneered. "That Eric Cartman is a student of mine! He _doesn't_ have a disease; I can assure you of that! He's gay and won't admit it! Someone has to knock some sense into that boy!"

"Well," Tom said, tugging on the collar of his shirt, "let's see what others have to say."

"I think it's sad that boys have to suffer such confusion at such a young age," a man responded, holding his hands at his waist. "It's cases like these that prove gays have plagued the next generation's minds."

"This has to be proof that homosexuality is a disease that needs a cure!" the man's wife commented, linking her arm with her husband's.

With a quick movement of her fingers, Liane powered off the television, covering her gasped mouth with her hands. "Oh my…"

* * *

><p>Packing the snow tightly, Butters sat in front his house, building a snowman. Softly, he sang a song with glee. Although he was alone, he felt as though he were surrounded by all of his friends. He didn't need anyone to play with, as an only child would be used to such things.<p>

"There," Butters said, admiring his work. So far, he had three balls of snow stacked atop of each other. All he needed now was a face and arms. Without much thought, Butters turned to his supplies, jabbing the two sticks within the middle ball of snow. Carefully, he picked up his rocks and pressed them in, trying his hardest to make the perfect face.

Stepping back to look at his work, Butters slipped on the snow, bumping into a boy who was walking the sidewalk: Eric Cartman.

"Watch where you're going, faggot!" Eric scoffed, pushing the skinny boy away.

"S-sorry, Eric," Butters cooed, rubbing his arm.

Eric turned to the snowman Butters was making, a smile growing on his face. "Butters," he began, "your snowman is incomplete."

"I know, he needs a nose," Butters agreed, making a grab for his bag of carrots. With little effort, he stabbed the vegetable right into the top ball. "There, now it's complete."

"No, it isn't," Eric argued, snatching a carrot out of Butters' bag. He jabbed the sucker at the bottom, where the penis would be. Quickly, he grabbed two nearby pinecones and placed them under the carrot. "Now your snowman has his cock," Eric announced, laughing.

"E-eric! You'll get me in trouble!" Scattering, Butters grabbed the carrot, blushing.

"Give the snowman his manhood, Butters!" Eric shouted, tugging at the carrot.

"No!" Butters announced, pulling back.

"Give me back his cock!" Eric hollered, grinding his teeth.

"Never! I don't want him to have a cock!" With all his might, Butters tugged the carrot, hoping to win this battle.

Letting out a high-pitched screech, Eric pulled with all his might. He pulled Butters straight at him, knocking the two of them into the snow.

Eric gazed into Butters' blue eyes, his cheeks turning slightly pink. He wanted to throw the boy off, but there was something inside him that wanted the boy to stay. There was just something about how the blond laid upon him that made his heart race. He grabbed onto Butters' hand, eyes still locked with the others. Deeply breathing, he softly cooed, "Butters…"

"Yeah, Eric?" Butters responded, his cheeks flushing as well. His free hand rested over Eric's heart, feeling the speeding beats. One of his knees overlapped the fat boy's groin, the other curled around a fat leg. Butters didn't know what was going on, but for some reason, he liked it. His face was only inches away from Eric's, allowing him to feel his warm breaths. They were close enough to kiss. Butters blushed harder.

"Get the fuck off me," Eric muttered, swallowing hard. His faggotitus was taking over his tiny brain! He couldn't let that happen! Why couldn't he be normal?

"Oh, sorry," Butters mumbled, quickly pulling himself to his feet. "Do you need any-"

"I've got it, Butters!" Eric moaned, slowly pushing his great weight off the ground. He glanced at the carrot in his hand and then at Butters, who had an innocent look to his face. He shoved the carrot into the blond's mouth, grumbling, "Here, suck dick."

* * *

><p>Stan and Randy shuttered on the cough together, muttering. They both needed their daily alcohol! Why couldn't Kyle understand that? Alcohol was good, and that's all that mattered, at least to Randy. As for Stan, he just needed it so he didn't see the world as shit. He became an asshole if he didn't have his drink. He, along with everyone else in town, hated him that way. So why stop him from what cured him?<p>

"Come on, it's only been five hours," Kyle snapped, irritated by their behavior. Why did they have to act like it was the end of the world? It was only alcohol! It wasn't even good for them to begin with, so there should be no complaints!

"Come on, Randy, you don't need a beer," Mr. Marsh said to himself, rocking himself back and forth.

"Everything is shit," Stan muttered, as the television in front of him turned into a giant pile of turd.

"I thought you were over that, Stan!" Kyle groaned, rolling his eyes.

"At least I can understand what you're saying right now," Stan mumbled. "Otherwise you'd just sound like shit."

"Ugh!" Kyle stormed out of the room, aggravated by the whole situation. He had to get away for a little bit.

Kenny just sat on the floor, devouring a bag of popcorn Randy had made earlier.

* * *

><p><strong>This is the part where I yell at Cartman for being an ass. But that's why we love him, right? He's always taking things too far. It killed me to write the lines of the homophobic people, because I am a supporter of gays rights (no shit). So, yeah. I think you can guess where this is going. I am expecting six more chapters at most. If I get passed six more chapters, then I will die of shock (not really). I honestly didn't think I'd have that snowman scene there, but I had to do it (as soon as I thought of it). Yep...CRITIQUE ME! (Did I keep all the characters in character?)<strong>


	5. You Piece of Shit

**Chapter 5**

**You Piece of Shit**

Rolling over in bed, Stan pulled the covers closer to his body. He didn't want to get up, not with everything looking like shit. He hadn't had a sip of alcohol in a while, at least for him. He had been sober for well over twelve hours, and it sucked ass. With every fiber in his body, he hated it.

His ears perked when the creaking sounds of his door shot through his ears. It was probably his mother coming in to check on him. He had told her that he wasn't feeling well, and easily convinced her to let him stay home from school. If only he could purchase alcohol himself, then he wouldn't have this problem.

"Stan!" Kyle's voice rang, causing him to jump out of bed.

"What the fuck, dude?" Stan's eyes widened as he gazed at his friend, amazed he didn't spew shit yet.

"I know you're not really sick, so come on! Let's beat the shit out of Cartman!" Clutching his friend's hand, the Jew had dragged him straight across his house, not receiving any notice from his parents. They took off into the streets, Kenny joining their said quickly. Their goal was the green Cartman house.

Smashing his fist against the door, Kyle irritably waited for an answer. "Open up, fat ass!" he screeched.

Stan watched as the anger poured out of the Jew's ears. What had the asshole done this time? He just shrugged it off, knowing he would find out soon enough.

No one had answered the door yet. "Open up, you fucking asshole!" Kyle roared, banging his fists against the door.

Trying not to laugh, Stan watched his angered friend. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew it was going to be good.

"Cartman! Open pfft!" Stan heard come out of Kyle's mouth. Shit. He was losing his sense of hearing! Everything was going to become shit soon!

Eric finally opened the door, coming face to face with an enraged Kyle. "I was taking a dump, asshole!" he spat, taking the three boys aback. That was more information than they needed to know.

As hard as he could, Kyle punched Eric in the face, sending him backwards. "You're such a fucking piece of shit, Cartman!" he screamed, inviting himself in, along with Stan and Kenny.

"What did I do?" Eric questioned in rage, trying to hold back his tears. Damn, that Jew could really throw a punch.

"Because of your God damn faggotitus, half the country is homophobic!" At this point, Kyle wanted to see Eric die.

Stan and Kenny just watched, knowing it wouldn't be wise to interrupt him.

"It's not my fault! They probably weren't open to being homophobic!" Eric argued back.

"I saw it on the news, Cartman! Thousands of gays are losing jobs, becoming homeless, and even losing their adopted children! Why can't you tell everyone that faggotitus isn't real and that you're just denying your homosexuality?"

"My what?" Eric spat, taken aback. Why does everyone think he's gay? He had a disease, God damn it! "I _do _have a disease, Kahl! And why do you care, anyway?"

"Because I have a heart, unlike you, fat boy! There is nothing wrong with being gay! Mr. Garrison, Mr. Slave, Big Gay Al, Stan's dog, you, Butters, and plenty of other people are gay! They will all be affected by all these organizations that were created because of _you! _In fact, they are trying to find a way to _turn off_ the gene that makes you gay!"

"I know, I am the one who started that organization," Eric smoothly replied, receiving another punch from Kyle. "What the _fuck_, man! You're gonna give me a God damn nose bleed!"

"Good! You're an asshole, and I'm sure Stan and Kenny agree!"

"Mmuph mm mmmumm mmuphmmumm mmmphmm!: Kenny shot, crossing his arms.

Stan remained silent, trying to figure out what had been going on. The entire conversation, all he heard was fart noises coming out of his friend's mouths. The whole world was now shit! Shit!

"Stan!" Kyle screamed, shaking his friend.

"I'm sorry, Kyle, I can't do this anymore," Stan responded, lightly pushing his friend away. "I have _no_ idea what is being said, because all I hear is shit coming out of everyone's mouth! Shit, you got that? You're my best friend, and I love you, dude, but I can't take this shit anymore! You can't take away alcohol from me! It's what drives the shit away! If you won't let me have it, then you'll have to find a new best friend. I fucking hate this shit! But I love you, Kyle! If you can't accept me for what I am, then _I'm_ a piece of shit for _ever_ loving you, and that's not in a straight way!" Without another word, Stan stormed out of the house.

"Mmm mm mm!" Kenny blurted.

"Well, now that my faggotitus has finally spread to Stan, I can help you find a cure, Kahl….for a fee, of course!" Eric smirked at Kyle, receiving his final punch. "God damn it, Kahl! I'm bleeding!" Holding his nose, Eric tried to stop the blood with his fat fingers.

"Good!"

* * *

><p>Leaning against the naked body next to her, Liane ran her fingernails gently against the chest of a local fireman. Both their eyes were glued to the television as they wrapped their bodies against each other. Neither of them could believe what they saw, but they should know better.<p>

"It's only been a day since HAF was created, and they are already working on finding the off switch in the gay gene. Eric Cartman, the founder of the organization, has spent the thousands of donations he received just to help find the cure to faggotitus." The news reporter turned his head to the woman next to him. "I don't know about you, Nancy, but I think this new disease is even bigger than cancer."

"I'd have to disagree with you, Jerry. I don't believe that faggotitus is a disease. It's just one of those traits people are born with, like how you were born with black hair, and I was born a blond. If only Eric Cartman could understand this." Nancy folded her hand in front of her, staring at Jerry.

He just narrowed his eyes, glaring at the woman. "Are you suggesting that Eric Cartman, along with countless other faggotitus victims are incurable?"

Clearing her throat, Nancy continued her argument. "I am suggesting that Eric Cartman is just a homosexual in denial, along with anyone else who believes they have the 'disease'. Any supporter for HAF is just ignorant of the facts of life. Why else do you think that the country is split into two groups? I fear that there's going to be another Civil War."

"If we do have a war, we'll call it something cool, like Civil War 2!" Jerry announced enthusiastically.

Nancy just smacked her forehead, shaking it slowly. "Anyway, I think that anyone who honestly believes HAF is doing good, they should get their head examined."

* * *

><p>"Oh, hamburgers!" Butters exclaimed, his eyes widening at the television. Was America really in that much trouble? And why was this happening so quickly? Butters was so confused. The news report had not only answered a few questions, but they had opened the door to many other questions. Could he possibly get an answer so he wasn't so confused?<p>

"So, Eric said that he's having unnatural images because of this disease, but everyone in the news was talking about being gay…" His jaw dropped open. Eric was gay?

* * *

><p>"Dad, you can buy more beer. Kyle's not running my shitty life anymore. Don't even bother responding, 'cause all I hear is shit," Stan flatly stated, standing between his dad and the television.<p>

"I know, Stan. Life is pretty shitty," Randy responded, his voice just as emotionless as his son's.

"Wh-what?" Stan stuttered, raising an eyebrow. Did he just understand what his dad had said?

"You heard me," Randy stated, staring into dead air. "You and I are alike. We both see the world as shit when we don't consume alcohol daily. I was just diagnosed. I guess I'm a late bloomer."

"This is fucked up shit right here," Stan muttered, shaking his head. "Look, why don't you get us some beer, and we'll party together?"

"Okay, but I'll teach you the importance of not getting drunk," Randy said, bouncing himself off of the couch.

* * *

><p>Flushing red, Butters squeezed his eyes shut. A short, frilly French maid dress wrapped itself around his thin figure, barely covering his ass. "This is so humiliating, Eric! Why do I have to wear this silly thing? And without underwear?"<p>

"Because, Butters," Eric cooed, twisting a smile across his face, "you look dead sexy!"

One of the brunette's fat hands placed itself upon the other boy's soft ass. Man, this boy was hot! He could just fuck him! Not just yet, though. He had to get Butters into the mood. His fat fingers squished the ass cheeks like a pillow, causing Butters to make a small 'yelp'.

"E-eric, please! I'll get grounded!"

Eric didn't give a damn. He just wanted the skinny boy all to himself. Nothing could stop him, not even the boy he held carefully in his arms. Without hesitation, the fat boy smoothly pressed his wet lips against the others, slipping his warm, moist tongue into Butter's mouth. His fat arms wrapped around the blond's body, both hands gently caressed his ass. Oh, how he enjoyed these fabulous kisses.

Calmed down, Butters attacked Eric's kiss with a luscious one of his own, deepening the passionate kiss further. The two continued to make out, being the only ones in Butters' bedroom. It was then when Butters' hands crept downward, rubbing against Eric's genitalia, ceasing the kiss.

"Getting a little adventurous, aren't we, Butters." Eric smirked, gazing into the dazzling eyes of the blond's.

"I-I just, um…I, uh…" He was lost in words, cheeks burning scarlet. Butters looked downward, trying to think of some sort of response.

"Suck it," Eric commanded, pointing to his penis.

"Wh-what?"

"Suck it, Butters. I won't bite."

Making a small smile, Butters' knelt down, becoming level with Eric's immense erection. In a teasing way, he kissed the fat boy's scrotum, sucking on it lustfully. Eric began to moan with great pleasure, to Butters' delight. The blond's lips began to caress up along the side of the shaft, coming back downward afterwards. His tongue trailed up the shaft of Eric's penis before licking the head of it, pre-cum seeping out.

"Oh!" Eric moaned, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks. The foreplay was not cool, as the irony of Eric receiving the pleasure instead of preforming it always happened. But why the hell should he care? No one was around. All that mattered was that he was aroused and was adoring this to no end.

Just after Butters kissed the tip of the brunette's penis, he smirked up at the fat boy. He slowly sucked on the head, moans to escape Eric's lips as his cock slipped deeper into the blond's mouth. The moans grew louder and louder the further Butters traveled.

"B-butters…" Eric breathlessly gasped, fingers stroking the skinny one's hair. His heart began to race as Butters' continued to suck on his beautifully erecting penis, more pre-cum entering his small mouth.

* * *

><p>"Oh, that feels so good, Butters," Eric muttered, lying face down on his brown couch. Drool escaped his bottom lip as his arms hung over the seat's edge.<p>

"Eric Theodore Cartman!" Liane scolded, waking her son with a jolt.

"Ah!" Eric screamed, sweating. He was back in reality. Good. He was sick of these dreams, just sick of them! The urge to make out and hump Butters grew more each time he had these dreams. If only they could just go away, so he wouldn't have these false urges. He was straight, after all.

"What'd I do, Mommy?" Eric cooed, batting his eyes, ensuring his erected dick stood hidden from his mother. Damn these dreams. Why did they arouse him so much?

"I just heard on the news that you caused half the country to turn homophobic! Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is for me?" Liane barked, putting her hands at her hips.

"Ugh, not this shit again," Eric moaned, rolling his eyes. He pushed himself into a sitting position, his hands covering his crotch for his dear life. He didn't care if drool still dripped by his chin. As long as his mother didn't see his erection.

"This has gone too far! You are going to admit to that boy you dream about that you are gay and put a stop to all this HAF stuff!"

"I am _not_ fucking gay, Mom! I am _not_ fucking gay! I will _not_ stop my HAF organization until a cure is found, even if it means half the country is destroyed in the process!"'

* * *

><p><strong>I give credit to my sister, who helped me write out Cartman's dream again! I swear, I have such a good sister! Is it ironic that she's younger than me, yet knows HOW to write these kinds of things, and I'm still new to it all? My friends call me innocent. Anyway, because of this dream, I am boosting the rating to M. I didn't think I'd go this far. Yep. Expect more chaos next chapter.<strong>


	6. Mr Harrison?

**Chapter 6**

**Mr. Harrison?**

Aligned in their desks of the classroom, Mr. Garrison's fifth-grade classed stared awkwardly as a man with jet black hair etched his name into the chalkboard. He was a tall, built Mexican with a fuzzy mustache placed upon his lips. His face was hard, thick eyebrows always seeming to arch in a glare. All-in-all, this man was the exact opposite of Mr. Garrison.

"Now, children," the man stated in a thick, Spanish accent, facing the students. "My name is Mr. Harrison. I am your new teacher. Your other one was fired for being infected with faggotitus."

"Why don't you have a Spanish last name?" Clyde randomly asked, waving a hand in the air.

"I was adopted. I lost my parents when tengo diez años," Mr. Harrison explained, folding his arms. The class stared, cocking their heads at the use of an unknown language. "I'm sorry, I was ten years old."

Agitated, Kyle raised his hand. He waited as patiently as he possibly could until he was called on.

"Are you trying to say that Mr. Garrison was fired for being gay? That's fucking retarded! There's nothing wrong with homosexuals! I think South Park already went through this when Mr. Garrison was denying his homosexuality!" Kyle ranted, grinding his teeth.

"I'll have you know that faggotitus is a serious disease that has infected numerous people around the globe! Eric Cartman is a genius for discovering it!"

Eric smiled proudly, staring at the Jew almost in a mocking sort of way.

"I'd say you're the dumb one for not accepting that it's a disease!" Mr. Harrison continued.

Growling, Kyle tried to think up another defense. "Stan, help me ou-. " His sentence cut off when his eyes met with the empty desk next to him. He had almost forgotten that Stan didn't show up today. Was he that mad, or did he get himself drunk again? Either way, it sucked to not have him around. He was his super best friend, after all.

"Behave Mister…..uhhh…" Mr. Harrison glanced at his seating chart. "…Broflovski, or I'm sending you to the principal's office!"

"Yes, sir," Kyle muttered, resting his chin upon the palms of his hands.

"Now, we're going to start off today's lesson with some math problems." Mr. Harrison picked up a piece of chalk and began writing.

* * *

><p>"Randy, what the hell are you doing?" Sharon Marsh shrieked at her husband, appalled at the sight of beer cans scattered around the room. The television, the bookshelves, the couch; everything was coated with empty beer cans. Her husband and her eleven-year-old son squished themselves within the cushions of the couch.<p>

"Having a partyyyy, Sharon!" Randy slurred, waving his beer can in the air.

"Yeah, yoooou should join us, Mooom!" Stan added, his voice slurred as well.

"No! You shouldn't expose our son to this kind of behavior, Randy! And Stan, you're too young to drink!" Sharon lectured, hands at her hips.

"But we neeeed it so we don't see the world as shiiiit!" Randy bickered, letting out a small belch.

"Yeah! There's no other cure, Mom!" Stan confirmed, taking a sip of his own beer.

"Then don't drink so much, you two!" Without any other thoughts, she swiped the beer cans away from the two drunken boys. "Randy, you are only allowed one can of beer a day! Stan, you are only allowed a _sip_ a day; do you got that?"

"Okay, Sharon," Randy murmured, trying to hold his head still.

"Got it, Mom," Stan responded, leaning back.

"Now go to your rooms and don't come out until I tell you to do so! I'm going to clean up this mess!" Sharon ordered. "Now march!" Pointing to the staircase, Sharon huffed with anger, about ready to explode. She really did have an idiot for a husband, and she unfortunately knew that for many years.

The two drunken boys crawled up the stairwell, putting as much effort as they possibly could to reach the top. When finally reached the top, Stan squirmed his way into the bathroom, while Randy locked himself in a hall closet.

"Our room sure is smaller than it used to be," Randy slurred, his voice muffled by the door.

* * *

><p>"People, please! One at a time!" Mayor McDonald hollered at the crowd of angered citizens before her.<p>

"I lost my job because of that damned fake disease!" screamed Mr. Garrison.

"They took his job!" a redneck screeched.

"They took his jerb!" another echoed.

"Herderp-i-derr!" a third added.

"They're throwing more and more gays out of their homes with each passing day!" cried Mrs. Broflovski, enraged.

"This faggotitus epidemic must be stopped," Mr. Slave announced, receiving cheers from a few others.

"I used to think that faggotitus was a real problem, but seeing how many of my friends, neighbors, and family being affected by this movement, I think we must revert back to a time when the term 'faggotitus' was unknown," a man in a plaid sweater hollered, silencing the crowd. They all eyed him with great suspicion.

"Who the hell are you?" Mr. Garrison questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm Sam. I just moved here and used to support HAF, but now I'm with you guys!" A wide smile crossed his face.

"Get the fuck out of here!" Mr. Garrison ordered, receiving a glare from Sam.

"People, there is nothing I can do about this," Mayor McDonald cried, gaining back attention. "I've tried everything I could already to stop this, but there is absolutely nothing more I can do. I've submitted South Park's part of the petition, but there aren't enough signatures. Still, only half the country is against HAF."

"I say we attack the source: Eric Cartman," Stan's Uncle Jimbo roared, throwing a fist in the air.

"Not my poopsikins," Liane muttered, covering her mouth.

"You should really just stop him, Liane! _You're _his mother!" Mr. Broflovski yelled, jabbing a finger Liane's direction.

"I've tried, but he just won't listen," Liane explained softly.

"That's because you're too soft!" Mr. Garrison shouted, putting the woman down.

Her brown eyes darting to the ground, Liane tugged at her shirt. "I know, but I'm pretty sure he'll eventually accept his feelings for his little friend…"

* * *

><p>Sitting at the edge of his couch, Butters turned up the volume to his television, his jaw hanging open. He really hated what was going on with the country, but it bothered him more that everyone was pointing fingers at his friend, Eric. Sure, he did come up with the idea of faggotitus, but how could he possibly know that it would cause so much trouble? He was just confused because he was having dreams he never had before, was all. He probably just panicked. "It's official," Jerry announced, holding a stack of paper, "The Civil War 2 has started!"<p>

"Not just yet," Nancy interrupted. "No one has officially declared war, but that isn't stopping the citizens from attacking homes and causing riots."

"True, but if you were in some of these neighborhoods, I'm sure you'd think the war has already started."

"Indeed, which is why many homosexuals, whether famous or unknown, are either in hiding or fleeing the country. Reports of gays being murdered has flown in like you couldn't believe!" Nancy folded her hands upon the desk, a smile never even daring to cross her face.

"It's too bad," Jerry continued, a huge smile stretching from cheek to cheek. "When HAF finds the cure to faggotitus, they could've helped all those lives lost."

"But faggotitus isn't a disease! It's not something that can infect you! People are just born gay. Being gay just means you are attracted to the same sex, rather than the opposite sex. It doesn't change who you are and it doesn't change what you will become! Faggotitus was just a term some eleven-year-old boy came up with! Why can't anyone see that?" Nancy threw her arms in the air, groaning in frustration.

Jerry glared. "You know, you're really starting to piss me off," he spat.

"Oh, hamburgers!" Butters gasped, covering his own lips. This was all terrible news, just terrible. If only he could help in some way.

"Butters," Stephen Stotch said, sitting down next to his son.

Butters, who was unaware of his father's presence, jumped at the sound of his voice. "Y-yeah?" he squeaked.

"I don't want you leaving the house. That means you don't go to school either. I want you to stay inside at all costs. It's too dangerous out there," Stephen explained, a serious look to his face. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Looking down, Butters fiddled with his thumbs.

"Good. Because if you didn't, you'd get grounded," Stephen stated bluntly.

* * *

><p>A knock echoed through his ears, causing Stan to lift his head off his knees. The boy sat crouched to the ground next to the toilet, having no intentions of moving. Another knock banged, followed by a familiar voice.<p>

"Stan, get out of the bathroom! You've been in there all day!" Kyle hollered, standing on top of the door.

"Go away!" Stan snapped. "You're the last person I want to see right now!"

"Dude, I'm sorry I was such an ass to you! I didn't realize you relied on alcohol to not see the world as shit. I don't blame you for not wanting to be friends, but I really need your help right now. Please, if not for me, help me for our country. Cartman's going to be the cause of a war!" Kyle leaned against the door, pressing his forehead on top of the dark wood.

The door knob turned, to Kyle's delight. Stan sat in the doorway, staring at his friend straight-faced. He didn't know what to say. So, he stated the obvious. "Let's go kick Cartman's ass."

Kyle stretched a smile. "Thanks, Stan."

The two ran outside, quickly grabbing a flashlight beforehand. Their feet stammered against the concrete as the orange light of the setting sun blanketed the small, mountain town.

"Hey, where's Kenny?" Stan asked as they continued their way down the street.

"He said he was going to Butters' house or something," Kyle answered, holding a finger to his chin.

* * *

><p>"You better work harder, God damn it!" Eric screamed into his phone, jabbing his finger downward in anger.<p>

"Well, I'm sorry, but you can't actually expect us to find a cure within a couple of days, Mr. Cartman. It's going to take us some time," the man on the other end explained in a shaky voice.

"Don't give me that bullshit! I'm trying to get rid of my faggotitus! I need the cure!" Eric snarled, hardening his face.

"W-we'll do everything we can, sir," the man stuttered, hoping to end the conversation soon.

"You better," Eric growled, hanging up. This was taking a lot longer than he would've liked. Why couldn't they just get rid of his damn disease? His dreams were getting more and more graphic with each passing day. He was almost afraid to fall asleep.

With a great sigh, the fat boy walked over to his desk, placing the cordless phone down. His eyes caught hold of his giant pile of untouched mail. He might as well go through it, just to pass the time. With little effort, he picked up the top one, ripped it open, and began to read the letter:

_Dear Eric Cartman,_

_I am so sorry to hear about having such a horrible disease at such a young age. I have a brother that is going through the same thing. I wish you the best of luck in finding a cure. I have attached a $5,000 check to go towards the cause._

_Sincerely,_

_Nick Ronner_

"Well, thanks for the cash, Nick," Eric mumbled, setting it aside. He opened the next letter, figuring it would be similar:

_Mr. Eric Cartman,_

_I am very displeased with your movement! Faggotitus is not real! Don't you see all the harm you're doing to this country? Stop before it's too late!_

_-An Angry American!_

"Dick," murmured Eric, crumbling the letter within his fat fist. Throwing the paper behind him, he used his other hand to grab another letter, hoping it would have cash.

_Eric Cartman, 3-15_

_I have information on how to cure your faggotitus disease. I am only hoping to help you. Please consider my offer and meet me at Stark's Pond tonight at seven. I would give you my name, but I'd rather save it until you we finally get to meet. I hope to see you there._

_-A friend to HAF_

Mouth falling open, Eric gazed at the letters printed on the page. Could this really be the answer to his prayers? Would this person truly cure him? There was only one way to find out. Eric jumped out of his chair, snatching his jacket off of his bed. If all turned out well, he would have an answer by the next chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope I got my Spanish right. I've only taken two years of the language (and it's been a year since I've practiced it)...And I just HAD to break the fourth wall again! I couldn't resist!<br>Wow...the cleanest chapter so far!**


	7. Stark's Pond

**Chapter 7**

**Stark's Pond**

"I can't go outside, Kenny, so you're gonna have to come in," Butters explained, allowing the child in orange to walk past him. "So, what's up?"

"Mmmph mm mmumm mm mmumphmmummph mmm mmummph," Kenny explained, handing a piece of paper to Butters. It had Eric's handwriting scratched across the page.

_Butters,_

_Meet me at Stark's Pond. There's something I need to tell you. Come, or I'll kick your ass!_

_Eric Cartman_

Reading over the letter a few more times, Butters' heart began to race. Why did Eric want to meet him so late? Why couldn't he tell him over the phone or come over himself? His mind began to drift to the news report he had heard yesterday,_ "I am suggesting that Eric Cartman is just a homosexual in denial…"_ It couldn't be. Why would Eric have any interest in the pathetic Leopold "Butters" Stotch? That's when he noticed one detail he seemed to have overlooked in the letter. A small heart was scratched in front of the 'E' in 'Eric'. It was so small; anyone could mistake it for a smudge.

But is father told him to stay inside, so how could he possibly leave his house? Did he honestly want to disobey his father's orders? He continued to think, rubbing his chin. Which was worse, getting beat up by Eric, or getting grounded? It was a tough choice, but then another question popped into his head: How much did he want to find out if Eric loved him? With great speed, his heart began to throb against his chest. He knew his answer.

"Thanks for delivering the letter, Kenny. I'm gonna go meet Eric." A small, hopeful smile curved into his cheek.

"Mmuph mm mm, Mmuphmm!" Kenny said with glee through his hood.

Sitting at a bench, Eric crossed his arms. The sun had just set, and it was now ten past seven. Where was that bastard? He said to meet at seven, and here he was, alone. So why wasn't this 'friend to HAF' not even around? Was this a trick?

Footsteps crunched in the snow, causing Eric's ears to perk. It was about fucking time. Keeping his arms folded, Eric turned his head, watching a skinny boy seat himself next to him. Perfect.

"Butters!" Eric was taken aback. Was this some kind of joke?

"Sorry I'm late," Butters cooed, brushing his bangs away from his face.

"Right," Eric scoffed. "Who put you up to this?"

"N-no one!" Butters exclaimed in defense. "I am just doing what you told me in your note…"

"What note?" Eric demanded, swiping away the paper Butters had pulled out of his pocket. His dark eyes quickly scanned the words, flabbergasted at what they had said and to how much they resembled his handwriting. How dare Kyle do something like this to him! He already had enough shit to deal with! He didn't need anything to top off the cake!

Taking notice to his friend's anger, Butters put a hand on Eric's knee. A concerned expression filled his face. Did he do something wrong? "E-eric?" Butters cooed, gazing at the fat boy who now looked at him.

Eric's face flushed red, unconscionably placing a fat hand of his own on top of Butters'. Those cool, blue eyes teased him as they fluttered at him. Swallowing hard, Eric licked his dry lips. His heart picked up speed, throbbing against his chest. There was no escaping his faggotitus. Why was that? Eric decided to experiment.

"Actually, there is something I was wondering, Butters…But you can't tell anyone, got it?" Eric tried to keep a straight face, his heart pounding.

"Cross my heart and hope to die. Well, not really. But I promise I won't tell," Butters said, smiling.

"I want you to stay still. No matter what I do, you can't move. Okay?" Eric muttered, gripping Butters' fingers tightly.

"I'll stay as still as I can, Eric," Butters promised.

Slowly, Eric placed a hand on eat side of Butters' head. He really wasn't sure what he was doing, but hopefully this would get his faggotitus out of his system. With little force, he brought his lips closer to the blond's, causing them both to blush madly. When their lips finally met, Eric shut his eyes, trying to forget that this was real. But there was something inside wanted this to be real. It wanted him to continue on. It brought back familiar emotions from his visions.

With little effort, he slipped his tongue through the barricade that was Butters' lips. His moist tongue wrapped around the other. His hot breath and deep breathing caused the scrawny boy to shutter.

Butters didn't know what to do. He had the strangest urge to wrap his arms around the brunette, but he knew better than to disobey his orders. So, he just sat there, allowing the other boy to intertwine their tongues together.

Finally, Eric pulled away, releasing the other boy's head from his grip. That had felt just as amazing as it had felt in his dreams. He wanted to do it again, but that would be too much on the poor boy. Wait, did he actually care what Butters thought? God damn it, what was happening to him? Where was the sick bastard that caused the Civil War 2? Hoping to kill the moment, Eric pushed himself away from the blond, whistling a soft tune to himself.

Fiddling with his thumbs, Butters smiled pleasantly. He finally knew the answer to his question. And so, Butters decided to let out what he believed the answer to one of Eric's.

"I like-like you, Eric…" Butters mumbled, glancing at the fat boy.

"Uh, what?" Eric was expecting anything but this.

"I said, 'I like-like you, Eric.' I mean it, too." With that said, the blond leaned over and gave Eric a peck on the cheek.

Eric didn't know what to say.

Meanwhile, in a bush behind them, Kenny stood eagerly. He kept bouncing up and down, thrilled about what he was seeing. With great effort, he had to restrain himself from letting out a great cheer. He knew, deep in his heart, that the two boys would end up together. It wasn't official yet, so he waited, hoping the brunette would just admit his feelings.

Letting out a great sigh, Eric began to think. He had given into his urges, and still, he wanted more of it. How could that possibly be? Knowing that Butters wanted more only enticed his heart even more. Maybe there was something overpowering him. Something he never thought possible. His heart screamed for Butters; it yearned for Butters. He wanted to claim the boy for himself and himself alone.

"Well," Eric began, smirking, "I think I'm deeply in love with you…and that's not my faggotitus talking…"

Butters smiled, scooting closer to Eric. His heart was filled with much glee, but he refrained from shouting.

"Mmm mmummm!" cried Kenny, dancing in place. Eric had _finally_ admitted his feelings! He _finally_ wasn't in denial! The excitement that filled his body made him feel as though he were high. He just loved the feeling. Without a care, he continued to dance.

Eric was too lost in thought to really hear or notice his parka-wearing friend. In his mind, another vision ran through his mind. This time, however, he didn't deny how much he enjoyed it.

Sucking hard, the imaginary Eric gained great pleasure. His tongue licked the shaft of the fanatical Butters' penis, causing him to moan in delight. He just enjoyed the sweet taste of the erecting cock, smirking up at Butters'.

"Eric!" the real Butters cried, placing both hands on the brunette's knee. "Your wiener is growing again." The blond leaned closer, trying to figure out why this was happening. His face flushed red at the sight of it.

"That's okay, Butters," Eric cooed, rubbing the blond's head.

"But why?" Butters questioned, confused.

"You'll find out." Eric smirked, planting a wet kiss on Butters.

"Mmmph mmm!" Kenny cheered, continuing his dance.

Just then, a gun shot fired, a bullet just breezing past Kenny's head. Out of natural reaction, the boy backed away, tripping over a rock. His body slid across the snowy-filled ground in front of the two lovers, landing in the water. Eric and Butters watched as Kenny continued to glide in the water, like a penguin would in the snow. When finally stopped, Kenny had reached the middle of the pond. Without much thought, he began to swim back to shore.

Another gun shot fired, causing Butters to jump into Eric's arms. The bullet flew straight into a tree, which fell over onto Kenny, who was still in the water. The great weight of the trunk pulled him to the bottom, the poor boy having no time to catch a breath before being dragged down. Panicked, the boy squirmed under the evergreen tree. When he finally gave up hope, he let out a great scream, choking on the water.

"Oh sweet baby Jesus!" Butters cried. "That tree just killed Kenny!"

"That bastard!" Eric roared, pulling Butters close to him. "We've got to get the fuck out of here!"

With that said, the two made a mad dash away from the pond, another gunshot echoing in the distance.

* * *

><p>"Randy, we need to talk," Sharon said, sitting next to her husband.<p>

"No, Sharon! You never understand my problems!" Randy cried, turning away.

"I'm sorry I acted the way I did. It's just, I never really imagined I'd see my son drunk. You can still drink, but please be smart about it, okay honey?" Fluttering her eyes, Sharon leaned against her husband.

"As long as I can drink beer," Randy muttered, pulling his wife into a hug.

With a loud crash, a brick flew through their window, smashing into the television.

"What the hell is going on out there?" Sharon screeched, covering her mouth.

"Let me handle this!" Randy demanded, trying to mimic a brave superhero. Slowly, the man made his way to the window. His eyes widened at the sight. Hundreds of people filled the street, holding torches and pitchforks. They all screamed and hollered in anger, making their way for the Cartman's house.

"Holy shit," Randy blurted, causing his wife to come over.

"What's going on?" Sharon questioned.

"I think they're going to burn down the Cartman house."

"No, my poopsikins isn't home!" Liane cried, stretching her arms across the door.

"Liar!" Mr. Garrison barked. "We all know you'd protect your son! Now let him out! He needs to be punished!"

"No!" Liane screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I won't let you lay a hand on my baby!"

"Stop shieling the hell-spawn from us!" a man shouted, waving his torch.

"Give him to us!" Mr. Garrison growled, pointing his pitch fork at Liane.

"You'll have to kill me first!" she harshly breathed, swallowing hard.

Mr. Garrison lifted his pitch fork, as if about ready to strike the woman in the heart.

"Are you mad?" Sheila Broflovski screamed, pushing Mr. Garrison to the ground. "Let the poor woman live! It's the son we want!"

"I thought we were friends, Sheila," Liane whimpered, falling to her knees.

"We are, but your son must be punished!"

* * *

><p>Standing a good few yards away from the scene, Stan and Kyle stared in shock. Were they too late? More importantly, should they encourage this or go against it.<p>

"Holy shit, dude!" Stan cried.

"What the fuck is wrong with our town," Kyle mumbled, shaking his head.

Both Stan and Kyle were knocked to the ground by two running bodies that crashed into them.

* * *

><p><strong>I didn't get any help from my sister with Cartman's mini vision. It wasn't too important here, so that's why I didn't make it last long. If you think this is going to end within one more chapter, then you're in for a surprise. I have the rest of the chapters planned out, and this is going to go to chapter ten, baby! (I know that means only three more chapters). Oh, and I want you to remember that Cartman and Butters stole Stan and Kyle's lines. REMEMBER!<strong>


	8. Capture the Virus

**Chapter 8**

**Capture the Virus**

"Ow, my head," Kyle groaned, rubbing his forehead. He could feel a great weight crushing his torso, making it impossible for him to move. Slowly, the Jewish boy opened his eyes, grimacing at the body he found. "God damn it, Cartman!"

"Get off of me, Butters!" Stan cried, pushing blond away.

"S-sorry, Stan," Butters muttered, pulling himself off the ground. Stan stood as well.

"Get the fuck off me already!" Kyle screamed, shaking his fists in frustration.

"I'm trying, Kahl!" Eric shouted back, struggling to push himself off of the Jew.

"Here, let me help," Butters cooed, grabbing one of Eric's fat arms. With all his might, he pulled the fat boy to his feet, losing every breath he had.

"Thanks, Butters," Eric said, smiling.

_SMACK!_

Kyle swung a fist at Eric, knocking the fat boy straight in the cheek.

"What the fuck was that for?" Eric roared, rubbing his bruised face.

"That's for stealing my line!" Kyle growled.

Without hesitation, Stan hit Butters in the arm. "Yeah, thanks for stealing our lines, douches!"

"C-could we just stay on script?" Butters suggested, half panicked.

"What's your problem?" Stan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Some asshole was shooting at us!" Eric shouted, grabbing the attention of the angry mob surrounding his house.

"Look, there's the ass wipe!" Mr. Garrison shouted, pointing towards Eric.

"Get him!" cried Jimbo lifting his torch in the air.

"Shit," Eric spat, gripping tightly onto Butters' hand. What had happened since he left? What kind of dumbasses lived in this town? A part of Eric wanted to run, while another part of him wanted to tell them all to fuck off. Seeing the pitch forks and torches leaned him towards his first thought, though. Running was probably better. But he didn't want to be a coward. What to do?  
>"Run, Eric!" cried his mother from behind the crowd. Tears leaked from her bloodshot eyes; her hands shaking from fear.<p>

"What's wrong with you assholes?" Eric screamed, casting away his idea of running.

The crowd still charged at him, their flames and forks in hand. With all their energy, they all screamed their own thoughts of the little boy. Remarks such as 'Go to Hell', 'Attack the little dick', and 'Homophobic faggot' roared through the mob. Anger and rage filled their eyes with every passing second, speeding up like a charging bull.

"Ass wipes, I don't want to find a cure anymore!" Eric screamed, hoping the idiots will listen.

Kyle turned his head towards Eric, raising an eyebrow.

"You sons of bitches don't have to worry about me anymore! I don't want anything to do with faggotitus! It isn't a real disease!" Eric screeched, turning Stan's head.

"God damn it, you dumb asses!" Eric pinched his brow, unsure of what else to do.

Butters watched the troubled boy carefully. There had to be something he could do to convince the crowd. That's when it hit him. "He's gay!" Butters cried, waving a hand in the air with a smile, stopping the crowd in their tracks.

"Well, we know that, but Eric won't admit to it!" Mr. Garrison hollered.

"Sure he will," Butters argued with confidence. Squeezing Eric's hand, Butters looked deep into his brown eyes. The blond fluttered his eyes, smirking.

"God damn it, Butters," Eric muttered. He faced the crowd, his face glowing bright red. This had to be the most humiliating thing he had ever done. "It's true. Faggotitus isn't a real disease…and I love Butters…" If it were possible, Eric's face would burn a brighter red.

"Holy shit," Kyle shot.

"Did Cartman just….?" Stan was lost in words.

"Damn, Eric…" Mr. Garrison breathed.

"That's my boy," Liane cried, wiping away her tears. "Such a big boy."

The moment was lost when a black van screeched to a stop. About ten men jumped out, all dressed in black suits. Although it was dark, they all wore sunglasses, some walking into mailboxes because of it. They all circled around Eric, Butters, Kyle and Stan, perking their curiosity.

"That's the one!" one of them sneered, pointing a sharp finger at Butters. "He's the virus!"

"No, I'm Butters Stotch," Butters corrected, staring at the man. His hair was slick, a greying brown. His large nose curved downward, a thin set of lips resting underneath it.

"Boy, did you French kiss Eric Cartman at Stark's pond?" the man questioned harshly.

"Ummm, y-yeah…" Butters flushed. "B-but what does that have to d-do with an-anything?"

Stan and Kyle exchanged glanced, disturbed at the thought of anyone _wanting_ to kiss Eric, not to mention _French_ kissing.

"Take the virus away," the man said, snapping his fingers. Two red-heads grabbed Butters, pulling him away from Eric.

"Let him go! I demand it!" Eric cried, shaking his fists.

The big-nosed man knelt down, putting a hand on Eric's shoulders. "We're with HAF, Mr. Cartman. We're only trying to help cure your faggotitus."

"God damn it, it's not a real disease!" Eric shouted, punching the man's face.

"I've got a nosebleed here!" he cried, covering his massive sniffer.

Two more vans pulled over, twenty men running over to the crowd. Carrying rifles, they all aimed them towards the crowd, not letting them pass.

"Don't even think of coming towards _the _Eric Cartman! He's a brilliant boy with a fatal disease!" one threatened.

"Fatal? Oh jeez," Mr. Garrison moaned, rolling his eyes.

"What the fuck, dude!" Kyle snapped, pointing to the new group of men. "What the hell do you guys think you're doing?"

"We're protecting the innocent," the large-nosed man said, still covering his nosebleed.

"No you're not!" Stan disagreed, glaring.

"Can I go now?" Butters questioned, held in the air by the two red-heads.

"You were supposed to throw him in the van, you idiots!" a black-haired man sneered, smacking them both in the face.

"Sorry, sir," they said in unison, throwing Butters into the original, black van.

"Mr. Cartman!" the fat-nosed man said, still refusing to remove his hand from his nose. "You're going with Mr. Twan. He'll take you to a safe place to rid you of your faggotitus."

Mr. Twan, an Asian man, grabbed the fat boy by the hand and seated him in the passengers' side of another van, taking off on the spot. Eric looked back, hoping the best for Butters.

When all seemed safe, the big-nosed man went into the van Butters was locked in and took off another direction.

"Well, I guess we better go help the fat ass," Kyle said, sighing.

"And Butters too," Stan added.

"Yeah," Kyle muttered.

* * *

><p>Tongues caressing one another, the blond and brunette fell onto a soft couch. Heat began to rise within the room as their tongues explored each other's mouths. It was so hot, so sweet; the brunette wanted to savior this taste.<p>

"Mmmm," Butters moaned through the kiss, rubbing his soft fragile hands against Eric's soft cheeks.

Allowing his warm breath to escape deeply, Eric pulled away, flipping the smaller boy around. His skinny body cushioned itself snuggly between the couch and his hefty lover. In a possessive yet caring way, Eric wrapped his flabby arms around Butters; his large knees digging into the faded couch. He lifted two of his thick fingers, waving them in front of the blond.

"Suck them," the brunette commanded, breathing heavily.

Without hesitation, the thinner boy did as he was told, soaking the sausage fingers with his warm saliva. He wrapped his tongue around them, pulling the sausages deep into his mouth.

Satisfied with Butters' work, Eric pulled them away, immediately inserting them into the blond's asshole.

"Ohhh!" the blond moaned in delight, blood rushing to his face. He could feel his dick harden as he felt his lover's fingers traveled through his insides. As they continued to move around, Butters continued to moan, breaths picking up in speed. His heart felt like it was racing, enjoying every passing second.

"Ohhh, Eric!" the blond managed to gasp. "More!"

With a tiny smirk, Eric obeyed, gradually jerking his fingers in an out of Butters' opening. He pressed his juicy, wet lips on Butters' neck, allowing his tongue to run up the soft skin.

"You're so fucking hot, Butters," Eric heavily cooed, allowing his warm breaths to hit his lover's neck. As he continued, the blond's throbbing penis screamed with pre-cum, only being an echo of the delightful screams of Butters'. Without warning, Eric replaced his fingers with his thick erection, receiving more pleasurable screams and moans from Butters.

"Oh, Eric!" Butters shrieked in delight, flushing red.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Cartman!" Mr. Twan shouted, snapping the brunette out of his dream.<p>

"What?" Eric shouted, unaware of his erection.

"Just trying to help you with your faggotitus dreams," Mr. Twan explained, keeping his eyes on the road.

"How the hell do you know what I'm dreaming about?" Eric demanded, crossing his arms as he turned away.

"Well, I don't think moaning 'You're so fucking hot, Butters' in your sleep is a good, heterosexual dream," Mr. Twan explained, causing Eric's face to blush.

"God damn it," Eric muttered.

His eyes glanced out the window, watching the slow-filled landscape pass him by. He had no clue where they were and no clue what they would do to him. In fact, he had no idea what they would do to Butters. Why did he have to take things this far? Why was he turning so God damn soft? He truly cared for that son of a bitch, and he was not afraid to admit that to himself. He was gay this whole time, and he falsely accused a fake disease. This whole thing could've been avoided if he would've done it a long time ago. But it was a natural reaction, right? It wasn't his fault. It could've happened to anyone. It's not his fault he didn't realize he was gay from the start. It was a mistake; a mistake he wish he could take back. If he lost Butters by the time this was over, he wouldn't know how to live with himself. Of course, the Jew was not finding out about that.

The van pulled to a stop, a red light glaring at them. Mr. Twan impatiently tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, watching the empty road in front of him. His teeth grinded as the red light taunted him.

_HONK!_

Mr. Twan turned his head, looking out the left window. A black van, identical to his, sat there, facing the wrong direction in the left lane. A young man with black sunglasses, a clean suit, and neat black hair signaled for him to come over. So, without hesitation, Mr. Twan exited the car, getting up close to this young man.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with the other HAF members?" Mr. Twan questioned, scratching his head.

"No, we're just where we want to be," the man said, confusing the Asian some more. Within a split second, the man pulled out a metal flashlight and swung it at Mr. Twan's head, causing him to fall over, head bleeding. "Cool!"

The top half of the man's body walked onto the passenger's seat, opening the door. It walked over to the van Eric was in and opened the driver's door. "Ready to save Butters, fat ass?"

"It's about time, Stan!" Eric grunted, jumping out. He followed Stan to the other van, climbing into the passenger's seat.

"Ready, Kyle?" Stan said from the back, removing the suit jacket.

"You bet," Kyle said, pulling the pants away from his face. "I can't believe those guys just let us walk into my house and take one of my dad's suits."

"Whatever. They're a bunch of dumbasses," Stan remarked.

With a heavy foot, Kyle reversed the van, pulling it halfway into the snow. He shifted it into drive and raced down the road, determined to reach their destination fast.

"Hey, do you even know where you're going, Jew?" Eric questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"The assholes announced where they were taking Butters, " Kyle explained, speeding up with every passing second.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you, *ShinjiLover for helping me with Cartman's dream! And I also have to give credit to ~Sutiiven-no-Okami for help (even though he doesn't know), because I used his fan fiction <em>Being Butters' Bitch<em> to help me with the dream as well. Most of this was written around midnight/four in the morning...so sorry if there's anything that sounds like crap. But then again, I wrote most of this fan fiction that late/early. Enjoy! (two more chapters, then a sequel, which has a rough outline written already!)**


	9. The Break Out

"Stay in that cell and don't move," one of the red-headed men sneered, pressing his face against the metal bars.

"And no funny business," the other added, glaring at the blond boy. "Don't even think about trying to take the keys off of my belt and unlocking the doors!"

The first red-head clenched his fists around the other's neck, rage filling his burnt eyes. "Don't tell him that! Gawd! You're such an idiot!"

With a big frown drooping down his face, the second red-head muttered, "I'm not an idiot." With that said, he scampered out of the room with the other, leaving Butters alone.

Boy, he sure did get himself into an awful mess this time. Not only did he cause HAF to turn against Eric, but he managed to get himself thrown into a prison. His father was sure to ground him for at least two weeks. With a heavy sigh, the blond wrapped his arms around his leg, resting his chin upon his knees. He allowed his blue eyes to dart about the dark room; a bed and a toilet were the only things to keep him company. He probably wasn't ever going to escape, at least not any time soon.

"W-way to go, B-butters," the blond whimpered, staring at the concrete floor. "This is a-all your fault. I wou-ouldn't blame Eric if he didn't want to speak to me again…"

* * *

><p>"Ace to Jew, do you copy?" Eric whispered into his non-existent walkie-talkie. His fat body stood hidden behind a bush; eyes glaring at the Denver Prison, which had been taken over by HAF.<p>

Narrowing his eyes, Kyle sneered at Eric. "I'm right next to you, fat ass!" Kyle attempted to a scream in a harsh whisper.

"Jew, I need you to sacrifice yourself to HAF, so me and Stan can go in and get Butters," Eric continued, ignoring the red-head's insult.

"Dude, we're not sacrificing Kyle," Stan flatly stated, crossing his arms.

"Why the hell not?" Eric questioned. "It's perfect! We save Butters _and_ get rid of the Jew!"

Full of rage, Kyle swung a fist at Eric, causing him to cry.

"Dudes, can we just focus on Butters?" Stan muttered, pinching his brow.

"You got any bright ideas, drunk-tard?" Eric spat, his dark eyes shifting towards Stan.

"Why not the same way we saved your ass," Stan suggested, glancing back at the black van they had poorly parked down the street.

"I think they'd want some ID," Kyle pondered, rubbing his chin.

A twisted smirk curled against Eric's cheeks. "I have an idea…"

* * *

><p>"Dude, this isn't going to work," Kyle sighed, handing a card to Eric, who wore the suit-jacket Stan had previously worn.<p>

"Sure it will," Eric cooed, smiling at the Jew who sat in the back of the van. His eyes quickly scanned the card. "Perfect."  
>"Brio Oartmam is the dumbest name ever," Stan interjected, sitting underneath Eric with the black pair of dress pants over his body.<p>

"Hey! My face is on this card, so if we edit my name here, they won't know the difference!"

"Yeah, but it would probably help if HAF had no idea what Eric Cartman looked like," Kyle flatly stated, pulling out a black marker. "At least give yourself a mustache."

"Fine!" With little effort, Eric snatched the marker and doodled a tiny mustache both on the card and on his face. "Perfect."

"Oh God, not the Hitler mustache," Kyle muttered, pinching his brow.

"Shut it, Jew! You're a fag who needs to go to prison!" Adjusting the mirror, Eric let out a heavy sigh. "Now, drive, drunk-tard!"

"Whatever you say, Gayman," Stan grumbled, pressing his foot against the gas.

The van slowly moved down the street as Eric controlled the steering. As soon as they were at the turn by the police station, Eric pulled the wheel, driving straight over the curb. When they finally pulled to a stop, a man in a black trench coat walked over to the van, peering over his shades.

"Have any ID, sir?" he muttered, arching an eyebrow.

"Right here," Eric coolly responded, handing the man his ID. The brunette watched nervously as the other man scanned the card.

"Alright, you're fine, Brio," the man said, handing the card back to Eric. "Just one question; what's your purpose for being here?"

"Well," Eric stated professionally. "I have a fag in the back that is disrupting our plans to find a cure to faggotitus. He denies that he has the disease, so we must hold him here for his own good. These are orders from the boss."

"Go right on in, then," the trench-coat-wearing-man stated, opening the gate for the fence. He watched as the van pulled into the prison, scratching his stubble chin. "Now, where have I seen that mustache before?"

Eric drove the van to a dark part of the outside, eyes darting both directions. Even though he and Stan were in disguise, he knew that there was no possible way that Stan could lift him; he was a pussy, after all.

"Is it clear?" Kyle questioned, glancing out the back window. His eyes took focus on the search lights, which calmly danced around the snow.

"It's clear," Eric confirmed, jumping out of the van. Waiting for the other two to exit the van, the brunette eyed the entrance. How were they going to get past the HAF members guarding it?

"What now, fat ass?" Stan questioned, leaving the pants in the van.

"Well," Eric mumbled. "It's probably time we sacrificed the Jew…"

"Stop suggesting that, tubby!" Kyle harshly muttered, clenching his fists.

"Well, I'm out of ideas!" Eric snapped back, trying hard to keep his voice down.

Stan clenched his head, eyes widening. Everything around him was becoming shit once more. The van appeared to be a giant turd in his eyes, knowing it was his condition taking over. Swallowing hard, Stan said the only logical answer he could come up with. "I'll sacrifice myself. Everything's shit again…"

Turning their heads, Kyle and Eric eyed their friend. Silence drifted between them for a moment or two.

"No, you're not," Kyle finally muttered, pulling a small water bottle out of his jacket pocket. "Take a sip of this; it's beer."

Eric and Stan exchanged bewildered glances.

"Dude…" Eric gawked.

"You brought alcohol?" Stan stated in a state of shock, his mouth hanging half-open.

"So you won't see everything as shit. Now take a sip of it already," Kyle ordered, shoving the bottle into Stan's hands.

Taking a small swig of it, the raven let the alcohol settle in his system. He shut his eyes for a moment, opening them shortly after. Bringing a smile to his face, Stan could see the black van, instead of the giant turd. "Thanks," Stan cooed, handing the bottle back to Kyle, who immediately put it back in his jacket pocket.

"Now that we have that over with," Eric rudely sneered, "How are we gonna get in?"

"Like this," Stan stated, throwing a tiny pebble at a bush on the other side of the door.

One of the HAF men glanced over at the bush, raising an eyebrow. He signaled for his partner to follow him as they both followed the pebble.

As soon as they leave the entrance unguarded, the three boys dash into the building, grasping no attention. Glancing down the dark, unlit hallways, the three silently jog through the building, trying to keep out of sight from any other HAF members. To their surprise, not many seem to be floating around. Finally making it to the cells, the boys stared in awe.

"Shit, there must be hundreds of them," Stan snapped, peeking into a nearby cell. A shaven man in an orange jumpsuit stood there, reaching out towards him.

"Get me out, kid," he moaned.

Stan shuddered, backing into Kyle.

"Well, it is a prison," Kyle flatly stated, glancing around the cells.

"Well, we could either yell Butters' name, ask someone if they saw him, or just look around…." Eric mumbled, scratching his double chin.

"Well, the first two ideas are fucking retarded," Kyle dryly responded, rolling his eyes. "And we'll be here forever with that last one."

"Well, I don't see you coming up with any bright ideas, Jew!" Eric growled.

"I'm just voicing my opinion, you fat fuck!" Kyle barked, losing his temper.

Stan just shook his head, placing his face into his palm.

"E-eric?" Butters muttered, walking towards the cold, metal bars. Was he truly hearing the brunette's voice, or was his mind playing games with him?

"For the last time, I'm not fucking fat! I'm big-boned, you no-good Jew!" Eric's voice echoed within the room, perking the blond's ears.

"Eric! Cell 37!" Butters hollered, a big smile crossing his face. He could feel his heart racing as every second passed; blood rushing to his cheeks. He just felt so giddy inside, wanting to burst with energy. He placed his face against the bars, trying to catch a glimpse of the fat boy. Sure enough, he could see him down below.

"Where's that?" Eric hollered, jumping his eyes in all directions.

"Second floor!" Butters hollered back, waving his hand in the air.

"There!" shouted Stan, pointing to Butters.

"Oh my fucking God, yes!" Eric hollered, making a jolt for cell thirty-seven.

Butters watched as the tubby boy waddled his way up the stairs, making his mad dash towards him. _H-he…he does care_, Butters thought, tearing up. He just couldn't believe it; even though Eric was the biggest asshole in South Park, his heart truly did care for him: Leopold "Butters" Stotch. It was wonderful.

"Butters!" Eric joyfully shouted, skidding to a stop in front of the blond. He pushed his fat arms into the cell, attempting to hug the thinner boy. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm happy to see you!"

"M-me too, Eric," Butters cooed, planting a warm kiss upon Eric's cheek through the bars.

"Am I the only one disturbed by a loving Cartman?" Kyle questioned, glancing at Stan, who wore the same horrified expression.

"Shut the fuck up!" Eric screeched from above, keeping a tight grip around Butters.

"Eric, do you have the keys?" the blond spontaneously questioned, catching the attentions of the three boys.

"You dumb ass!" Stan barked, holding his hands over his mouth, "Why didn't you think of that before?"

Eric just sent a grimacing glare at the two down below, clenching his teeth.

"W-well, one of those gingers have the keys, Eric," Butters explained. "He's keeping them around his belt. He told me to not even think of taking them from him…I dunno how he expected me to even do that…."

"Because they're dumb asses like Cartman," Kyle groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Well, where did they go?" Eric questioned, ignoring Kyle's comment.

"I think they went to the main office or something," Butters mumbled, glancing at the floor.

"Don't worry, Butters," Eric cooed, cupping the blond's chin, "we'll get you out."

Barfing up his dinner, Stan widened his eyes in disgust. "That does it, I'm getting the keys. You two can keep an eye on Butters or something."

"Wait," Kyle muttered, putting a hand on Stan's shoulder. "I'm coming with you."

* * *

><p>Peeking through the crack in the doorway, Stan and Kyle eyed the red-heads that sat at a table playing monopoly. Both their eyes clicked onto the keys, which nestled tightly against one of their belts.<p>

"What's the plan, dude?" Kyle questioned, eyeing Stan.

"Not sure. You got any ideas?" the raven asked with hope.

"Nah, I've got nothing," Kyle admitted, eyes scattering around the room.

"Damn it."

The two sat there in utter silence, allowing their brains to think.

"Well," Kyle began, breaking the silence. "I know it's a little out there, but they probably are idiots."

"What is it?" Stan questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, what if we just walked in there and said that their boss wanted them outside? You know, pretend we're messengers."

"Dude, they'll probably recognize us from earlier," Stan commented.

"Not if we take off our gloves and hats and switch jackets," Kyle suggested, smiling at his friend.

"Dude, it won't work," Stan muttered. "These are serious people."

"Well, I don't see you coming up with something better." Kyle removed his gloves, placing them within his pockets. He then removed his hat, stuffing it deep within the sleeve of his jacket. "Your turn; then we switch."

"Fine." Stan repeated the steps Kyle had, rolling his eyes as he did so. They both swapped jackets and eyed each other in a moment of silence afterwards.

"Stan," Kyle muttered, just as the raven was about to enter the room. "Did you really mean what you said about loving me?"

"What?"

"Yesterday, you had said that you loved me…and not in a straight way…were you serious?"

Stan stood there for a moment, biting his lip. "Why should that matter? Anyway, we have a job to do."

"No, before we go in, I gotta tell you something," the red-head stated. "I love you too, dude, and I don't mean that in a straight way. Even if that was just your anger getting to you because of all the shit, I will still love you. I don't care if you're bi or whatever. I just wanna let you know, if we don't make it out of here, that I love you."

"Why can't these things ever be short?" Stan questioned, smiling.

"Shut up, asshole," Kyle grumbled, rolling his eyes.

The two walked into the room, not even grabbing the slightest bit of attention from the two red-heads.

"No! I don't wanna go to jail!" one of them whined, placing the car piece onto the jail space.

"Sucks for you!" the other mocked.

"A-hem!" Stan cleared his throat, catching their attention.

"Our boss sent the two of us here to give you a message," Kyle stated, keeping professionalism in his voice.

"What'd he want?" one questioned, rolling the dice.

"He wanted us to take your positions here, while you two went outside and had a word with him," Stan replied, keeping the same professionalism in his voice as Kyle.

"Oh boy!" the two screeched, hugging each other like two preppy girls.

"Here, take the keys," one had said, shoving the keys into Kyle's hands.

"Yeah!" the other added. "And you can finish our game of monopoly, if you'd like!"

Without another word, they raced out of the room.

"We have only a few minutes to break Butters out," Kyle muttered, turning to Stan.

* * *

><p>Catching the keys in mid-air, Eric glanced down at the two down below, glaring. "It's about damn time!"<p>

"We only have a couple of minutes to do this!" Stan hollered. "They're bound to figure out that we tricked them and hunt us down!"

"Shit," Eric grumbled, unlocking Butters' cell. He then threw the keys on the ground, causing other prisoners to reach for them through their own cells. Not one of them had arms long enough to reach.

"Let's go!" Eric commanded, grabbing the blond's hand. He dragged the boy down the stairs, meeting up with the other two. Without a second thought, the four of them raced out of the building, aiming for the van. Their hearts pounded in their chests as they passed many HAF members who visually saw them.

"Have a nice day!" one of the red-heads greeted, waving as the children jumped into the vehicle.

"You moron, they tricked us!" the other screamed.

The two red-heads, along with at least a dozen other HAF members, charged towards the van as they rambled.

"Reverse, reverse!" Stan shouted at Kyle, who held the steering wheel.

"Gimme gas!" Kyle quickly snapped, changing the gear.

Following as ordered, Stan floored the gas petal, causing the van to back straight into the fence that surrounded the prison. Kyle switched it into drive and turned it around, driving straight through the gate. The black vehicle raced down the road, exceeding the speed limit by far.

"I-I think we lost them," Butters muttered, looking out the back window. A bullet shot straight through the glass, hitting the empty passenger's seat.

"Oh, fuck," Eric muttered, pointing to the van full of armed HAF members behind them.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry it took so long! I spent a lot of time figuring if I was going to split this into two chapters or if I was going to just keep this one giant chapter. Since I have no motivation to continue the "chase scene" at the end, I made it one giant chapter. Just one more chapter to go! Then I'm doing some research for the sequel! (It's gonna be fun!...Plus, I love Kenny's part in the sequel!) While I do research, I'll probably finish writing a few one shots you guys can look out for!<strong>


	10. Make It Right

**Chapter 10**

**Let's Make it Right**

"Get back into your homes and stay there!" the large-nosed man hollered, shooing a few children back into the crowd.

"T-too much pressure!" one of the boys he had shooed cried, twitching as he ran. Next to him, a boy with a blue hat turned and flipped a bird at the man with the monstrous-sized nose.

"And keep control of your children!" the man screamed, his face becoming red.

Trying to keep his cool, the man with a nose half the size of his face watched as the crowd slowly decreased in size. Some just gave up on rebelling, while others were frightened for the safety of their families. Even with this stricken fear, some refused to give up their ground. They sat firmly with stern faces.

"Just get back inside where you belong," the man sighed, wiping his over-sized sniffer.

Suddenly, the crowd began to panic, retreating for their homes. Were they actually listening to his commands?

"Run for your lives! That maniac is going to ram right into us!" Mr. Garrison screamed, running as far away as possible.

Curious, the massive-nosed man turned around, eyes widening. He took a dive to his right, just in time. A black HAF van sped down the road, running straight into a home.

"Wait a minute," Mr. Garrison muttered. "That's _my_ house! You sons of bitches are gonna die!"

Another HAF van pulled in, skidding to a stop. A man with a gun sat in the passenger's seat, still firing at the first van.

"Let's get the fuck outta here!" Eric's voice cried from within the vehicle, turning a few heads.

Four boys jumped out of crashed van and dashed into town, screaming their lungs out. Each one of them ran past their parents, who gasped at the sight, begging them to stop. Just as anyone would predict, the other van unloaded with HAF members who took a chase for the four boys.

"Now that's not right," Stephen Stotch stated, glaring at the large-nosed man. "You're chasing children with guns?"

"What is this world coming to?" Linda, his wife, chimed in.

The great-nosed man swallowed hard, tugging at the collar of his suit. "Now, now. Let's not be rash." Sweat trickled down his face as the crowd grew once more, a few HAF members joining them.

* * *

><p>"Look!" Kyle huffed, pointing his finger at Town Hall. "Mayor McDaniels! Maybe she can help us!"<p>

"Fat chance!" Eric grumbled, thinking back to when he had tied her up.

"It's worth a shot," Stan interjected, just as a bullet flew passed his head.

"I-I don't wanna die!" Butters cried, keeping a firm grip onto Eric's hand.

Without much thought, they dove behind the mayor, using her as a shield. They watched as the HAF members set their guns at ease, approaching them quickly.

"What's going on?" Mayor McDaniels questioned, glancing back at the four boys.

"Those boys are interfering with a project of ours, ma'am," a HAF member began, "They not only kidnapped someone we were holding in custody, but they have ruined quite a bit of our equipment."

"I started the damn group! I have something to say, but those bastards won't let me!" Eric hollered, peeking out from behind the mayor's leg.

"You're diseased!" another HAF member bickered back, crossing his arms.

"Let the boy speak," Mayor McDaniels muttered, sighing heavily.

"Thanks!" Eric sang, jumping for the podium in front of Town Hall. Taking his time, he adjusted the microphone to his liking, blowing into it afterwards. "Can I have your attention, everybody! Please go to Town Hall for an important announcement!"

His voice rang loud and clear throughout the town, grabbing great attention. As if their lives depended on it, every citizen within South Park crowded around Town Hall, staring at the fat boy in awe. What was he about to say? Would he stop this madness?

"People of South Park! Heterosexuals Against Faggotitus, aka HAF!" Eric began, clearing his throat. His eye caught attention of a TV crew standing in the back, recording every word that came out of his mouth. They probably didn't have a news story prepared, so they figured this one would do.

"I need you all to realize that what I'm about to say is….true." His eyes swatted throughout the crowd, picking up familiar faces. He even found the large-nosed man with a few bruises. "Faggotitus…isn't real."

A few people gasped.

"Yeah. It's fake. It exists just as much as a Jew's faith in Christ." Eric licked his dry lips, taking a deep breath.

"You see…I never had anything against gays, really. I just didn't think I was gay. So when I started getting a gay crush on someone, I went out and said it was unnatural. I never meant to cause half the country to turn homophobic. Seriously, you guys. Faggotitus was just a made up disease to explain my weird-ass feelings I didn't understand. Now I do. So I'll just show you I have the balls to admit it. I, Eric Theodore Cartman, am a homosexual; a faggy, gay homosexual. HAF is now dead. Anyone associated with HAF should just forget about it, or be shot on the spot. Thank you."

The fat boy stepped away from the podium, settling himself next to Butters. His face was glowing a faint pink as his looked away from his audience. They all stood in silence, watching him. Was this good or bad? Did he fuck up? What would happen next?

"Way to go, Cartman," Kyle murmured, smiling at his fat friend.

"Yeah, well said," Stan added, clapping his hands.

Slowly, others began to clap. It was like a domino effect, one after another. Soon enough, the whole crowd was cheering, even the HAF members.

"Wait!" a man in a lab coat roared, silencing the crowd. "I discovered the cure for faggotitus! So it has to be real!"

The entire town glared, belittling the man. The large-nosed man pulled out his shot-gun and sent a bullet straight into the man's skull. "There is no faggotitus."

The whole crowd began to cheer once more, sending a smile upon Eric's face. Maybe being gay won't be so bad after all.

"E-eric," Butters cooed, eyeing the one who gripped his hand.

"Yeah, Butters?"

"Does this mean we're dating?"

Eric let out a heavy sigh. "God damn it, Butters. You're so retarded. Of course we're dating…"

As reports, stories, and articles flew across the country, more and more families became less homophobic. They seemed to revert back to their feelings prior to the entire faggotitus catastrophe. Eric made sure that everyone had understood that faggotitus was just a creation made out of fear, rather than fact. He and Butters even attended a gay pride parade to ensure his support for homosexuals. All seemed normal. Butters was even grounded for three weeks.

The only bothersome fact he faced was that Butters had somehow talked him into returning all the money citizens had donated to his cause. How the little asshole did it, he didn't want to know. All he knew was that he was _happy _knowing someone, other than his mother, loved him. He was _happy_ that someone saw past his rough outer-edges. Butters Stotch loved him and meant it. It was an indescribable, outstanding feeling.

* * *

><p>His heart continued to soar at the touch of the warm, wet tongue against his own. Eric was in bliss, as passion swooned between him and his blond companion. It was heaven; their warm, naked bodies rubbing against each other on the cool, soft bed. Their usual love games would commence, but it never stopped these moments from losing their lustful charm.<p>

"E-eric," moaned the blond.

"Shh," the fatter boy softly hushed, gently planting his lips upon the other boy. Smoothly, his beefy hands trailed down his lover's soft skin toward his private area.

"N-no."

"Relax. It's not going to hurt."

A soft gust of breath escaped the blond's lips as the larger boy wrapped his pudgy hands around his genitalia. Butters could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, face becoming redder than it was during their passionate kiss. To his surprise, Eric allowed his hand to trail up and down Butters' shaft, the pace rapidly gaining speed. As the fat boy gained pace, the smaller boy's moans grew louder and louder.

"Oh, Eric," Butters moaned.

As the brunette continued to jack off his boyfriend, he planted his lips at the tip of his lover's penis, sucking with ease before taking more into his mouth. Both his hands and mouth moved in sync now. Saliva coated the blond's cock, which hardened with the pleasure that was building up inside of him. His heart raced. It was amazing. It was thrilling. It was so passionate! In fact, it was so stimulating that he had to-…

"E-eric!" he gawked.

The brunette shook his head.

In less than a moment cum had shot up inside Eric's mouth, dripping down his chin as he tried to swallow as much of it as he could. It tasted like heaven; a paradise in his mouth. Although it burned his throat on its way down, it was worth it.

"Damn it, I wasn't prepared for that, Butters!" Eric teased, yet was still serious.

"S-sorry, Eric,"

The brunette just let out a slight chuckle and proceeded to suck his boyfriend dry. He didn't care if it felt like lava draining down his throat; it was so fucking worth it.

* * *

><p>"Wake up, Eric," Butters whispered, shaking his boyfriend's shoulder. "Mr. Harrison has an important announcement to make."<p>

Gradually, the fat boy perked up his head, starring straight at the Mexican man in front of the class. He knew his dick had become excited from his dream, but he just didn't give a damn; at least, not anymore.

"Class. I have some bad news. It turns out that Mr. Garrison was hired as a middle school teacher. What does that mean? It means that I get to be your teacher for the rest of the year," Mr. Harrison explained to the class, eyes fixed upon his pupils.

"Hurray!" the class cheered.

"Fuck, not a Mexican for a teacher," Eric huffed in barely a whisper through his teeth.

The door cracked open, revealing the principal. Her face was filled with concern. "Mr. Harrison, can I have a word with you outside?"

"Si, señora," he answered, taking a step towards the door. "I'll only be a moment, class. Just take out your homework from last night." With that said, he stepped out of the classroom.

"Sweet! Now we can do whatever the hell we want!" Eric said, smiling at Butters.

Kyle, who had been watching the two of them all day, stood up. "Cartman." He turned to the boy next to him, Stan. "Stan."

All eyes were focused on the Jew.

"I've learned something these past few days. Actually, I've learned a couple things."

"Jesus Christ, not this shit," Eric groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up, fat boy!" Kyle sneered. "Anyway, I've learned something these past few days. Sometimes people do certain things because it makes them feel better, not because it is good for them. And sometimes it makes them feel so good; they become addicted and lose control. You can't force someone to stop something that makes them feel good; you can only help them control their addiction."

"Thanks, Kyle." Stan smiled. "You know, I've learned something too. Sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places. And sometimes, it's those places that understand you the most and become the most helpful, like Kenny was for Butters and Cartman."

"Go fuck yourselves!" Eric hollered, receiving some laughter from the class.

"It's not funny!" Stan growled, crossing his arms. "Kenny died trying to get you two together!"

"Whatevah," Eric spat, rolling his eyes once more.

"I also learned that even the coldest of people can have a fucking heart," Kyle grumbled, eyeing Eric. "They can be complete assholes, but they can truly care for someone."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Jew-boy." Eric waved a hand at Kyle, as if it would shoo him away.

"H-haven't you learned anything?" Butters questioned, placing a hand on Eric's.

"Do you wanna know what I've learned? I've learned that being gay kicks ass!" A smug look plastered on Eric's face.

"You didn't learn a thing about homosexuality _not_ being a disease? Or maybe even that being gay _isn't_ a sign of weakness like you thought?" Kyle hissed.

"I learned that you're a faggot," Eric said, smiling.

"I change my mind. Do you know what I learned today?" Kyle began, "I learned that no matter what, Cartman will always be an asshole; even when he's an ass-fucking asshole!"

Eric stared at Kyle for a moment, trying to register what was being thrown at him. "Hey, wait a minute! I never ass-fucked Butters!"

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>FINALLY! FINISHED!...Well...now onto the sequel. Thanks to the polls I made on deviantART, it shall be called <em>Disobey Disorder<em>. I thank my sister, *ShinjiLover, eight million times for Cartman's final dream! She came up with it and wrote it (originally)...then I wrote it in my own words. Thanks so much for the help! (You can't find her version anywhere...she wrote it for me on her computer and gave me the file XD). What do you think? Sorry if it's a bit rushed. :/  
><strong>


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